


Temporary Love

by ForForever19



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drama & Romance, F/F, Faberry Endgame, Homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:47:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 156,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22899019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForForever19/pseuds/ForForever19
Summary: 'As far as first impressions go, Quinn Fabray would definitely sell part of her soul for a do-over.'
Relationships: Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray
Comments: 263
Kudos: 623





	1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer** : I, by no means, claim to own anything remotely related to the Glee Universe. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

**AN** : I've always been a little curious about a Universe where Rachel doesn't come from a supportive household, and this is the result.

* * *

**I**

As far as first impressions go, Quinn Fabray would definitely sell part of her soul for a do-over.

Even thinking about it makes her cringe, but there's definitely nothing to be done. Quinn knows she can be a bitch on her best days, but, added to the complete ridiculousness of her mother, she's on some other level tonight.

It's three weeks into her senior year of high school when Quinn's relatively cookie-cutter life changes, absolutely and completely, almost without her say-so. She's had everything meticulously planned out, all of it set out for her, and now… this.

It's a random Friday night, and Quinn is... furious.

She's livid.

It's the kind of anger only a teenager named Quinn Fabray can muster. It burns in her veins, and her ears are fiery red while her fists clench.

It starts when her mother, Judy Fabray, shows up at William McKinley High School after the football game where Quinn was cheerleading, and insists Quinn come home, after she was initially told she could spend the evening out.

Which Judy _had_ to know was always going to start the mother of all arguments.

Quinn, enraged beyond measure, storms into the house ahead of her mother, dragging her school bag and gym bag behind her. She kicks them into a corner of the entrance hall and rounds on her mother with a burning stare.

"I just don't understand!" she yells, now that they're in the safety of their home. She doesn't even bother to look around as she levels her glare at Judy, who looks as calm and unruffled as ever. "Why are you doing this to me? Do you hate me or something?"

Judy internally sighs. "I've already explained it to you," she says, ever so calm as she closes the front door, making sure to lock it, knowing her husband currently isn't home.

"It doesn't make sense to me," Quinn says, waving her arms in exasperation. "Nothing about this makes any sense."

"Quinn," she says patiently.

"No!" Quinn yells. "What part of 'It's my best friend's birthday party tonight' don't you understand?"

Judy knows she shouldn't match Quinn's tone, because that's just going to make things worse. Her daughter is fiery on normal days, but she's reaching higher levels tonight. It's already the second time it's happened in a few days, and Judy is worried it's turning into a pattern.

"Quinn, you've just arrived home from school, and now you already want to head out, when you've been complaining endlessly about how tired you are?"

"Of course, I complain!" Quinn shouts, staring incredulously at her, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "School sucks, and the work is hard and, yeah, I'm exhausted, but, Mom, this is Santana's eighteenth birthday, and you're literally telling me I have to stay home. How on Earth can I not go?"

"Because I said you can't," Judy says, maintaining her calm.

"That is complete crap!"

Judy narrows her eyes. "I understand you're angry, but that gives you no right to speak to me like that."

Quinn has the decency to look ashamed, but the rage is still flowing through her. "Why?" she asks, cursing the fact she let Santana pick her up for early practice this morning. All of this could have been avoided if she'd just taken her own damn car. "Why couldn't you have just let me leave with Santana?"

"Because I texted you to come home after the game and you didn't reply, so the only way to ensure you did as I said was to fetch you myself."

"I'm not some kid, Mom," Quinn snaps. "I'm seventeen years old, and I should be allowed to - "

Judy's hand unexpectedly shoots out to cover Quinn's mouth, stopping the teenager's rant.

Quinn's eyes widen, and she mumbles something against her mother's hand.

"Ssh," Judy says, her eyes wide. "I forgot we have a visitor."

Quinn frowns, and then wraps her hand around her mother's wrist and moves it away. "What?"

Judy ignores her, and walks towards the living room, peering into the room through the archway. She lets out a gasp, which prompts Quinn to follow her, and she walks right into the open space, coming face-to-face with her sister and someone who must be one of her friends sitting around the coffee table, with their books spread out in front of them.

Quinn can't really explain what happens to her in this moment, but something does. There are two pairs of eyes on her, but it's a chestnut set that forces an uneasiness to creep into her bones.

Her first response is to laugh, because she's probably losing it a little. "Great," she says sarcastically, looking at her mother. "We even have an audience. Now, everyone can see just how unfair you're being."

Judy glares at her. "Quinn Fabray, you stop this behaviour right now." Her tone is dangerous, and Quinn should probably heed the warning, but she has blinders on.

"No, Mom," Quinn says, rolling her eyes. "We should probably let our audience know exactly what's going on. Please, please, everybody tune in: Judy Fabray here has decided it would be _prudent_ to _force_ her daughter to miss her best friend's eighteenth birthday bash, because she thinks she needs to _rest_."

"Quinn," Judy says.

"Please," Quinn suddenly says. "You can't honestly be doing this to me. I'm convinced I'm dreaming. Seriously. What am I supposed to tell Santana?"

"My decision is final," Judy says, suddenly stern. "Now, take your things upstairs, and try to show some consideration to our guest."

Quinn is even more infuriated by the dismissal, and she stalks towards her bags, lifting them roughly. "This isn't fair," she practically hisses at her mother, and then glowers when she spies the smug smile on her sister's face. She sends a heated look at her mother. "It's not fair," she repeats. "Just because Sarah has no life and has no choice but to stay home, why do I?"

"Hey," Sarah says from her position on the floor. "Don't bring me into this."

Quinn shoots her a look. "But, it's your fault!" she accuses. " _You're_ stuck here, so Mom's stuck here, and now I'm stuck here, while my entire grade celebrates my _best friend's_ birthday." She huffs out a breath. "Why doesn't anyone get that?"

Judy takes a deep breath, tired of having to defend her choice. She strongly believes parents should be able to make decisions without offering explanations, and she definitely knows Quinn wouldn't be behaving this way if Russell were home.

"Quinn," Judy says. "I'm going to say this once and only once: you are to go upstairs right now. Nobody is coming to pick you up, and you really don't want to test me by attempting to sneak out of this house. I believe you said you have a lot of work to do."

Quinn frowns. "You must be crazy to think I'm going to do any work tonight," she says, scoffing. "This isn't fair, and you all know it," she says one last time, and then trudges up the stairs.

Judy waits until Quinn slams her bedroom door to let out a heavy sigh. She looks towards her younger daughter and her new friend, and offers an apologetic smile. "Sorry about that," she says, her eyes on Sarah's friend, who is rather surprising in that she's not the usual kind of friend Sarah has.

For the most part, Sarah has bonded more with boys in the past, but her best friends have always been girls. Rosalie moved away in the second grade, Hannah in the fourth, and then Jenna in the eighth. Sarah's had a pretty rough go of it in that department, but she seems to have taken to this one quite strongly.

"She's a dramatic one," Judy adds after a moment

Sarah rolls her eyes. "That's an understatement."

Judy lets out a little laugh. "You girls all right?" she asks. "Do you need anything?"

"What's for dinner?" Sarah asks.

"I thought I'd make some chilli stir fry," Judy says, moving further into the living room.

"That's Quinn's favourite," Sarah grumbles.

"As if it's not one of yours, as well," Judy teases, dropping a kiss to the top of her daughter's head. "Rachel, does that sound okay with you?"

Said girl snaps to attention, oddly feeling a little overwhelmed by the last ten minutes, and how she feels about what she just witnessed. "Oh, um, yes, that sounds perfect," she says.

"Is there anything you're allergic to?" Judy asks, starting on her way to kitchen.

"Nothing," she says. "That I'm aware of, at least."

"Dietary requirements?"

"No, Ma'am."

Judy nods with a smile. The girl is painfully polite. "You two can move to the kitchen table if you want," she says. "I wouldn't mind the company."

Sarah laughs. "Sure thing, Mom."

* * *

It's almost an hour later when Quinn returns downstairs, freshly showered and dressed in a casual pair of sweatpants and a purple tank top.

She feels calmer after she spent nearly ten minutes venting her frustration to a completely unsympathetic Santana Lopez.

Not that Quinn expected anything different, really.

Santana called her a pansy, and Quinn is still trying to figure out if she'll actually be able to get away with making it out of this house without her mother noticing.

Quinn enters the kitchen to find her mother at the stove, and the smell that hits her makes her mouth water. Sarah and her new friend are working on homework at the kitchen table, and Quinn ignores them as she heads to the fridge.

What she sees makes her anger flare. "Where are my carrots?" she asks, turning accusing eyes on her mother.

Judy just gestures to a bowl sitting on the counter, indicating carefully sliced carrot sticks. "I thought I would make it easier for you," she says.

Quinn just grabs the tub of hummus from the top shelf, and then closes the fridge door. She fights to maintain her frown as she retrieves her carrot bowl. "This doesn't mean I'm not still angry with you," she says, huffing. "But, thank you."

"Don't have too much," Judy gently says. "Dinner's almost ready."

Quinn just stiffly nods, and then moves to sit at the free end of the kitchen table. She props her feet up on a free chair, and looks at her sister. "Why on earth are you doing homework on a Friday night?"

"Why on earth are you at home on a Friday night?" Sarah shoots back.

Quinn rolls her eyes. "Whatever," she mutters. Then: "Who's your friend, anyway?"

"Quinn," Judy immediately reprimands. "Don't be rude."

Quinn just looks at the new girl. "I don't know you," she says, "and I know all of Sarah's friends, which are very few, just by the way. Why don't I know you?"

"Jesus, Quinn," Sarah says. "You can turn the HBIC off, you know? We're at home."

"It's in my blood," Quinn says, shrugging, as she picks up a carrot, scoops up some hummus and takes a bite.

Sarah shakes her head, annoyed. "This is Rachel," she says. "She's new this year."

Quinn looks at the girl, who's about as petite as they come. Her hair is dark, and so are her eyes. Her skin is tanned, and there's a certain untouchable quality to her that makes Quinn shift in her seat.

"Rachel," Quinn says, finding she quite likes the way the name sounds as it leaves her mouth. "Just Rachel?"

"Rachel Berry," the girl says, and her voice is... almost musical. "My name is Rachel Berry."

Quinn cocks her head to the side. "Well, hello there, Rachel Berry, I'm Quinn Fabray, Sarah's only and much hotter older sister."

"God, you're the worst," Sarah says, but she's amused, if her smile is anything to go by. "But, yeah, Rachel's new to McKinley, and to Lima."

"Jesus, I'm sorry," Quinn says, biting at her carrot stick. "This is probably the worst place on Earth."

Judy clicks her tongue. "Quinn."

Quinn ignores her, eyes remaining on the only brunette in the room. "Why would you come here?"

Rachel seems to shrug, clearly not wanting to divulge that bit of information to someone who is, essentially, a stranger. "I just go where they tell me," she says, feeling a little uncomfortable under Quinn's scrutiny. The girl's hazel eyes are oddly intense, and Rachel wishes she would just stop looking at her.

Despite this being the first time they've officially met, Rachel has definitely seen Quinn around school. She's kind of difficult to miss, being the Head Cheerleader and all. She's seen the blonde in the corridors, and she's even had the displeasure of interacting with Quinn's supposed best friend, Santana Lopez.

Quinn's own eyes narrow, because it's obvious Rachel is withholding for a reason. Quinn isn't one to feel anxious, but she's suddenly swept by this strange feeling that she needs to rectify Rachel's opinion of her.

For what could be the first time in her life, she feels as if she should apologise. "I'm sorry about earlier," she says, and her tone is surprisingly soft. "I'm not normally so rude like that."

"Liar," Sarah says. "You totally are. All the time. You're a giant pain, really. Who lied to you?"

"Shut up," Quinn says.

Sarah blows her a kiss.

"Seriously, though," Quinn says; "Why are you home tonight?" She lifts another carrot stick. "And doing homework like the total losers you are?"

Rachel flinches at the sound of the word 'losers,' and Quinn notices.

Sarah doesn't. "We have a huge English project due next week," she answers. "And, we have to get it done this weekend, because they're just piling it up."

Quinn smiles, because she has no other choice. It's this wide thing that lights up her entire face, and Rachel has to look away before she says or does something stupid. "You're sophomores," Quinn says; "what could you possibly be complaining about? Seriously, wait until you're seniors."

"But you guys have all these free periods," Sarah points out. "I mean, haven't you completed most of your credits, anyway?"

Quinn shrugs, choosing not to comment. They don't need to know what she spends her time doing. So, she just eats her carrot stick, trying to figure out just why she feels so unsettled in this moment. Her eyes drift towards Rachel again, and she's surprised to find the girl looking at her.

For a terrifying moment, she feels heat sneak up her neck, but her attention shifts when Sarah speaks.

"So," she says, twisting her pen in her right hand. "I guess I'm sorry you don't get to go out tonight. It sucks, and I don't really think it's fair."

Quinn glances at Judy, who's adding a bit of seasoning to a pot and pretending she's not listening. "Thank you," she says, shrugging. "It is what it is." She seems to pause, pouting slightly, and Sarah looks curious while Rachel tries not to stare at the full lips right in front of her.

Quinn suddenly gets to her feet, surprising them all. Judy even drops her spoon. "You know what," Quinn says; "we can have our own party."

Before anyone can even question her, Quinn shoots out of the room and into the lounge. They can hear her scrambling around, and then there's a loud screech, a mumbled curse, and then music is suddenly blaring from the sound system.

"Jesus," Sarah says, wincing when OneRepublic blasts from the speakers.

Quinn pops her head back into the kitchen. "Come on, ladies," she says. "It's Friday night, and Dad isn't home, so it's only fitting we party the right way, don't you think?"

Judy casts a nervous look at her older daughter. "Sweetheart, I don't think that's a good idea."

Quinn looks at her, debating with herself over the merits of actually engaging in an argument over it. She decides against it, rolls her eyes, and then heads out again.

They hear the music change to Swedish House Mafia, and the volume increases to an insufferable level.

"God, I hate her sometimes," Sarah grumbles, shaking her head. "I swear I could kill her. I can barely hear myself think." She looks helplessly at her mother, but Judy just shrugs. She's done her fighting for one evening.

Sarah looks at Rachel. "We're better off just joining her," she says.

Rachel's heart jolts a little at the idea of... partying with Quinn Fabray. "I think my brain switched off a long time ago, anyway," she says, yawning.

Sarah laughs as she slowly gets to her feet. "Come on," she says; "let's go see what the crazy girl is up to."

Rachel hesitates for only a moment, but then she's getting up as well, lifting her arms and stretching. She's generally comfortable around Sarah. They kind of hit it off pretty quickly on Rachel's first day of school when they were made to sit beside each other in Spanish, and they've become fast friends.

This is, however, the first time she's actually visited Sarah's home, meeting her mother and sister, and the ease she usually feels around Sarah has faded away. Her heart is beating a little too fast, and she can't seem to catch her breath.

It's not as if she didn't know Sarah was the Head Cheerleader's sister. It's just, well, she didn't really think about it too much.

Quinn is Quinn, and Sarah is Sarah.

Rachel didn't think she would ever have to interact with the taller blonde, who they find standing in the middle of the living room, slowly bobbing her head to the music.

"What shit is this?" Sarah asks, heading towards where Quinn's _iPod_ is plugged into the system.

Quinn startles slightly, and then grins a little. "Finally come to your senses, I see," she says, watching her sister cross the room. Her eyes drift to Rachel, who looks a little unsure as she hovers just inside the room. Quinn waves a hand. "Come on," she says; "we don't bite."

Rachel audibly swallows, because it's definitely not helping her situation to have Quinn actually talking to her. This is not how she expected her Friday night to go, and having Quinn's attention is a little - okay, _a lot_ \- disarming. The girl is charming without trying, and Rachel is determined not to be charmed.

If she just remembers the Quinn who was yelling at her mother, then she'll be fine. If she just recalls the cold glare of the girl who stalks the school's corridors, then she won't think about how good Quinn looks right now, face a little flushed, eyes dark behind her glasses and blonde hair in a messy bun.

Sarah changes the song to _Sweet Nothing_ by Calvin Harris featuring Florence Welch, and then she rushes towards Rachel, reaching for her hands. "Let's dance," she says.

Rachel casts a nervous look at Quinn, but the blonde is looking at her phone. It eases some of the tension in her body to have Quinn's attention off her, and she lets the music travel through her limbs.

She's a dancer. It's in her blood, swimming in her veins, and she allows the beat to take over, her heart beating loudly and her eyes slipping closed.

Quinn knows she shouldn't stare, but she can't help it. She's had these kinds of dance parties with her sister before. Not recently, of course, but her childhood was filled with all sorts of shenanigans with her kid sister.

Sarah, generally, likes to make a fool of herself, but Rachel -

Quinn's mouth goes dry. Her eyes are frozen on hips that shouldn't exist, and she's well aware of the fact her mouth is hanging open.

"Quinn," Sarah suddenly says. "Come dance with us."

With a quick shake of her head to clear it, she throws her phone onto the couch and then starts to dance. She heads towards Sarah, immediately twirling her until she lets out a laugh.

It's fun.

Quinn can almost forget Rachel is right beside her. It's definitely not the heat of another person's body she's feeling. Not at all.

They go through three songs, before Rachel does the thing and effectively seals Quinn's fate.

She starts to sing along to the song and, while Sarah just screams the lyrics, Rachel _sings_ , and Quinn is caught off guard by the sound of her voice.

"Wow," Quinn says, mostly to herself, but Rachel glances at her, and Quinn swears her smile is more of a smirk.

Judy enters the room then, waving a hand at them to cut the music. Sarah skips towards the _iPod_ , and presses pause.

"Dinner's ready," Judy says, and then heads back to the kitchen.

Sarah goes first, following the call to food, but Quinn lingers a moment, her mouth opening to speak before she can stop it. "You have a great voice."

Rachel stares at her for a moment, and then she says, "I know."

On anyone else, it might sound arrogant, but Rachel seems to be stating a fact, and Quinn can't help her smile. It spreads across her face, and she doesn't know what it is about this girl, but she knows she's going to have to be careful.

"Quinn!" Sarah yells from the kitchen. "I'm going to eat your bacon bits."

That gets Quinn moving, and she practically bolts from the room, earning herself a giggle from Rachel. She tries to ignore the way her stomach flips at the sound as she heads into the kitchen and takes her seat.

"It smells really good, Mrs Fabray," is the first thing Rachel says when she enters the kitchen.

"I told you to call me Judy, Honey," Judy says; "and, thank you. It's one of my secret recipes."

Quinn rolls her eyes. "She only says that because she doesn't want us to live without her."

Judy pokes Quinn's forearm with her finger. "What would you do without me?"

Quinn winks at her. "Probably be at a party right now."

Judy just laughs, and then presents Rachel with the serving spoon for the accompanying rice. "Guests first," she says.

Rachel hesitates for a moment, but eventually acquiesces. She recognises that arguing is just going to be futile, so she quickly dishes for herself, and then waits until everyone has done the same to start eating.

It's fascinating for her to see the differences in this family. Sarah is genuinely unapologetic, dishing a fair amount of food and immediately digging in. Judy is prim, proper, so much a lady as she carefully dishes and then eats with perfect posture and culinary skills.

And, Quinn, who dishes the least out of all of them, picks at her food for a few moments, and then seemingly forces herself to eat.

Conversation is minimal as they eat until Judy suddenly says, "Sweetheart?" and turns her gaze on Quinn, even as both sisters look up at the term of endearment.

"Hmm?"

"Have some more."

Quinn eyes her critically.

"It's your favourite," Judy adds, smiling innocently.

Quinn clenches her jaw, and then reluctantly dishes a second helping that's less than half her original offering. Sarah goes for her own second helping, and Rachel watches it all with curious eyes.

"I'm fine, you know," Quinn murmurs, looking at Judy.

"I know," Judy says, and nothing more is said about it.

* * *

After they've eaten, Quinn does the dishes while Rachel and Sarah finish up with their homework. Rachel is very aware of Quinn's presence, as the girl floats around the kitchen, absently humming along to the music playing from the living room.

Rachel tries not to look at her, but her gaze does drift from time to time, and she finds it extremely difficult to stay focused on the essay she has to write on _Macbeth_.

Quinn Fabray is a fascinating specimen to her, but she's forcing herself not to think about it, because she knows it can end in only disaster and heartbreak. She's been in this position before, and what she already knows about this town and this family is that she's definitely going to have to curb those desires that are, well, frowned upon.

Rachel is all too aware of the moment Quinn finishes with the dishes, and then disappears from the kitchen without a word. She lets out a breath she didn't even realise she was holding when it's just her and Sarah left, and she's finally able to concentrate on her work.

For all of ten minutes.

The music blares again, and Sarah gives up far too quickly.

"Oh, screw it," Sarah declares, throwing her pen onto the table. "I think I'm done for the night. What about you?"

Rachel just nods.

"Want to go resume our dance party?" She asks the question, but she's already on her way out of her seat, and Rachel takes three deep breaths before she follows behind her blonde friend.

They find Quinn dancing alone, and Rachel just stands there in wonder as Quinn's hips sway to the beat, her arms in the air. The look on her face is mesmerising, so soft and relaxed, and Rachel knows she's in trouble.

Especially when Quinn glances her way and grins. It's this playful thing that makes Rachel's heart rate rise. Eventually, Quinn looks away and that should be that.

Except that Sarah drags Rachel further into the room, and they join Quinn for her impromptu dance party, once more.

While Rachel tries her best to stay aware of where Quinn is at all times, she's surprised when, just three songs later, said blonde is right next to her and looking at her curiously.

"Where did you move from?" Quinn asks, leaning in to ask the question of Rachel over the music.

Rachel sucks in a breath at Quinn's proximity, and forces herself not to move away the way she desperately wants to. "Uh, why?"

"Just curious," Quinn says.

Rachel drops her gaze for a moment. "We moved from New York."

"Whoa."

Rachel smiles, somewhat sheepishly. "It's quite the change, yeah."

Quinn wants to ask her something more, but Sarah is suddenly dragging Rachel away, and the brunette offers Quinn a what-can-you-do kind of smile.

Quinn just goes back to her mini dance party, but she tires quickly - though, she'll never mention that to her mother - and collapses on one of the couches.

Sarah takes the cue and reduces the volume, before she too throws herself into an armchair. She looks at Quinn. "You still planning on going out?" she asks.

Quinn rolls her eyes. "What makes you think I would ever risk something like that?"

Sarah gives her a look.

Quinn shrugs. "I'll see how I feel," she says noncommittally. "I hate to admit it, but I am kind of tired."

Sarah's brow furrows. "Is it - "

"No, I'm fine," she gently interrupts, glancing at Rachel, who is still standing and currently going through the music on Quinn's _iPod_.

Quinn feels oddly exposed at the thought she'll possibly learn things about her from her song collection. Playlists are such a personal thing, and she hopes Rachel doesn't judge her too harshly based on what she likes to listen to.

Her heart practically jolts when she remembers she has an actual _High School Musical_ playlist on there, and she has to force herself not to jump up and grab the device from the girl's hands.

Still, she sits, trying to be inconspicuous about watching Rachel. Quinn finds the general line of the girl's body to be fascinating. Her posture is perfect - Judy would be proud - and there's something so... Quinn wouldn't go so far as to call it angelic, but there's something unreal about this strange girl who has now captivated her.

Maybe ethereal.

There's really nothing more to it.

They've said only a handful of words to each other, but Quinn is... hooked. Smitten.

She can feel it.

This girl is unlike any other person Quinn has ever met before, and that's saying something, because being as popular as she is means she meets a lot of people.

Quinn wants to ask question after question, but she doesn't want Sarah - or even Rachel - to think it's weird, or possibly even catch on to what it could all possibly mean.

This has never happened to her before. Not only is this person who's causing her heart to stutter _a girl_ , but she's also a stunning girl, who happens to be Sarah's friend, which means she's Sarah's age.

God, Quinn is going to burn in Hell.

She's had a few passing thoughts about how pretty some girls are, but she's never actually been attracted to a _real_ one, and that's exactly what's happening with Rachel Berry.

Quinn knows nothing can come of it, so she just sighs and rolls her head to the side, her eyes slipping closed and missing the way Rachel's features soften when her eyes land on Quinn's face.

Rachel's heard stories about Quinn from some of the students in her year and, when the girl first entered the house, Rachel could see where they were coming from, but everything feels different now. Despite her explosive showings from earlier, Rachel can't help that she's intrigued when she really shouldn't be.

"I think this is my favourite song of, like, all time," Sarah says when _Collide_ by Howie Day comes on, and Quinn opens her eyes to meet her sister's gaze.

"Remember when we listened to it on repeat that one afternoon when I was a sophomore?" Quinn says, eyes a little faraway.

"We napped to it, I remember," Sarah says, smiling slightly.

There's a shared moment between them that Rachel isn't a part of, and the brunette absently wonders what secrets they share. Having no sisters herself, she wonders what it must be like growing up with one.

There's love there, and she wonders if it's the unconditional kind.

* * *

When Judy comes to bid them goodnight, she urges them not to stay up too late, which she knows is going to fall on deaf ears. Still, she says it, and then retires to her bedroom.

The three girls don't move, save for when Sarah puts in a movie for them to watch. Which they don't really do. Sarah ends up asking Rachel about New York, and the brunette starts to tell them stories about her old life.

Quinn just watches her in wonder, hanging off every word she says like the hopeless idiot she's now decided she is.

Quinn learns that Rachel has a mother and a stepfather, and twin little brothers, whom she loves but are also the complete bane of her existence. She learns Rachel's favourite colour is yellow, and that she's been professionally trained in ballet and jazz, and her mother coaches her vocally.

Quinn also learns that Rachel misses New York a lot, and that they picked Lima to move to because her mother grew up in Ohio, and she was offered a job to teach at William McKinley.

"Miss Corcoran is her mother," Sarah tells Quinn, but Quinn's never heard of the woman. "She teaches English."

Quinn is in every Advanced Placement class there is, so she probably won't encounter the woman.

Sarah tells Rachel things about their family, weaving in a few tales about her and Quinn's shared childhood that have them all in stitches.

Quinn is growing to love Rachel's laugh, and she carefully prompts Sarah to keep telling stories just so she can keep hearing it.

The three of them end up talking right until the moment Sarah falls asleep, nodding off almost mid-sentence, which makes Rachel giggle while Quinn just shakes her head in amusement.

The silence that follows is both strange and comforting, and Quinn looks at her, tempted to ask all the questions she's been burning to ask. For some reason, she feels the need to hold off, maybe slow everything down. Take it easy, as it were. Not rush. Let it all happen organically.

Quinn audibly swallows. "I think that's a sign," she says, slowly getting to her feet. "This is very rude of her, huh?" she says, shuffling towards where Sarah is passed out. "How can she just leave her guest like this?"

Rachel glances at her. "Like sister, like sister, huh?"

Quinn blushes, looking away. "Should I wake her?"

"No, it's okay," Rachel says, slowly rising from her seat. "I'm actually surprised she lasted this long, to be honest. We've had a shocker of a week."

Quinn just nods. "Umm, do you know where you're sleeping?" she asks, coming to a stop over Sarah's slumbering form.

"In the guest room, I believe," Rachel says, as she starts to tidy up the small mess they've managed to make.

"Oh, you don't have to do that," Quinn hastily says; "I'll come down and sort everything out, don't worry."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," Quinn says.

"I feel as if I should be doing something."

Quinn's smile is warm. "How's about you turn down Sarah's bed for me?" she offers. "I'll be right behind you with the mole rat."

Rachel frowns. "You're going to carry her?"

Quinn just shrugs, and then bends to slip her arms under Sarah's body. She takes a breath, and then lifts, groaning only slightly. Normally, their father carries Sarah, but Quinn kind of likes having this... thing with her sister. In less than a year, Quinn's going to be at college, and then what?

Quinn leads the way out of the living room and up the stairs towards Sarah's bedroom, with Rachel following close behind her. It makes her a little nervous, really, and she's relieved when she steps into Sarah's messy room.

Rachel rushes around her, and she shifts Sarah's duvet back, so Quinn can set the girl down, before covering her again. She steps back once Sarah is sufficiently tucked in, and she's surprised by how close Quinn is actually standing to her.

"Thank you," Quinn says, not moving away.

"Sure," Rachel whispers.

"I kind of wish she could be that peaceful all the time," Quinn observes, looking down at her sister.

Rachel smiles. "But, then, she wouldn't be the Sarah Fabray we know and love, now would she?"

"I wouldn't mind," Quinn teases, winking at her.

Rachel blushes, ducking her head slightly, because this is just ridiculous. She does not have a crush on her friend's sister. Her potential _best_ friend.

That's definitely not what's happening here.

Quinn turns then, absently tugging on Rachel's sweater to get them out of Sarah's bedroom. She doesn't completely close the door, because Sarah likes having the corridor's light shining through. She'll never admit to being wary of the dark, but it's definitely something Quinn won't ever tease her about.

Quinn leads Rachel to the guest room, coming to a stop at the door. "Are you going to be okay?" she asks. "Do you need anything?"

"No, I think I'm good, thank you."

"You sure?"

"I'm pretty sure I'm capable of putting myself to bed," Rachel says, and then immediately regrets it when Quinn's eyebrows shoot up. Why on earth did she just say that?

Quinn clears her throat. "What I mean is do you need a glass of water or something? Toothpaste? A towel?"

Rachel just wants to disappear. "I'm good, thank you," she says again. "Goodnight, Quinn."

Quinn's heart stutters at the sound of her name from Rachel's lips, and she forces herself to take a step back. "Goodnight, Rachel," she says.

Which has a similar effect on Rachel.

Quinn turns on her heel, and then rushes down the stairs, practically feeling Rachel's gaze following her as she goes.

It takes Rachel a full minute before she feels able to move, and she slips into the guest room with her heart racing and her mind blank.

This isn't happening.

They've only been in Lima for a little over six weeks, and she's already managed to get herself the most disastrous crush imaginable. It's as if she just tries to make it difficult for herself. All she knows and all she's allowing herself to know is she's going to have to nip this in the bud before it gets out of hand.

With a shake of her head, Rachel grabs her toiletry bag and walks down the corridor to the guest bathroom. She has a regimented night routine, which she uses to calm her racing thoughts. She washes her face, moisturises, and then brushes her teeth for a full three minutes.

It doesn't help.

And, it just gets worse when she opens the bathroom door to find Quinn slipping out of her own bedroom, decidedly not dressed the way she was twenty-five minutes ago.

Rachel's eyes are wide when she takes in the sinfully short dark blue dress, coupled with a black leather jacket and the kind of heels that could kill a person. Her blonde hair is tousled to perfection, her glasses are gone and her makeup is dark.

Everything about her screams danger, and Rachel is drawn to her in all the worst ways.

Quinn freezes at the sight of Rachel, but she recovers quickly, smirking at the wide-eyed girl in front of her. She cocks her head, and then brings a finger up to her lips as an indicator to keep her quiet.

Rachel finds herself smiling before she can stop herself.

Quinn playfully salutes, winks, and then rushes down the stairs.

Rachel just watches her go again, already knowing she's probably going to get little to no sleep tonight.

* * *

Rachel is the first to wake, given that her body is trained to open her eyes at exactly six o'clock in the morning. It's not something that's disappeared with the move to Lima, much to her stepfather's chagrin, and it's something of a point of pride for her.

But, well, now she's in a new house in a neighbourhood she doesn't know, and she doesn't realistically think she can go for a run.

How does she even get out of the house?

Sighing to herself, she rolls out of the insanely comfortable bed and trudges to the door, with the intent of going to the bathroom.

What happens next is almost comical.

Rachel swings open the door at the exact moment Quinn steps onto the landing, and Rachel's entire being jolts. From surprise, sure, but also from the actual sight of Quinn. Her heels are held in her hands, replaced by black Chucks, and her leather jacket is zipped up an inch at the bottom.

All Rachel really knows is the girl is unfairly attractive.

Quinn freezes at the sight of her, and then she lets out the smallest laugh. "We've really got to stop meeting like this," she says, her mouth forming a tired smirk.

Really, if Rachel thought Quinn was appealing before, she's something else entirely in this moment. The girl is obviously exhausted, her makeup smudged and her hair a delightful mess.

But, it's the eyes. They're hazy and slightly unfocused, and Rachel can tell she's still drunk. Rachel can smell the alcohol on her, and the smoke, and the combination is heady. It just seems so unlike the image she's had of Quinn for any of these things to be apparent, and Rachel is an idiot to think this truth would help her ease off her massive crush.

"Are you just getting in?" Rachel asks, finding her voice.

Quinn saunters towards her, hips swaying, even if her legs seem a little unsteady. "It was an epic night, Berry."

Rachel shivers when Quinn comes to a stop in front of her, warm breath against her skin. And, the sound of her surname... she doesn't know how she's going to survive any of this. "What did you do?"

"Oh, you know," Quinn says, gaze meeting Rachel's. "All those bad, terrible things they tell you not to do."

"Like?"

"Booze, cigarettes, weed, making out with insignificant boys, the works."

Rachel feels her heart drop at even the thought of Quinn with a boy. Quinn with someone else, at all. "Those are bad for you," Rachel finds herself saying.

"All of them?"

Rachel nods.

"Hmm." Quinn sways forward, and Rachel holds her breath. It takes a moment, but Quinn gets a hold of herself, and then leans back. "What are you doing awake, anyway?"

"I always wake up this early," Rachel says. "I usually do some sort of exercise."

Quinn perks up. "You run?"

"Sometimes."

"Wanna go running with me?"

Rachel blinks. "When?"

"Right now."

"You can barely keep yourself upright," Rachel points out.

Quinn waves a hand, as if it's unimportant. "I'm fine."

Rachel makes to poke Quinn in the sternum, and the blonde sways perilously backwards before she even makes contact. "I'm sorry; what was that?"

Quinn just scowls at her.

Rachel giggles softly. "Why don't you catch a nap, and we can revisit this when you don't look like you've just partied the night away?"

"Promise?"

Rachel is hit by the sudden vulnerability in Quinn's voice, and she absently wonders if this is just a byproduct of her inebriated state. "I promise," Rachel says anyway.

Quinn smiles. "Okay," she says. "I'm going to sleep now."

"Okay."

Quinn cautiously sniffs at herself. "Maybe I should shower first."

"That sounds like a good idea."

"Are you trying to say I smell?"

"Yes."

Quinn lets out an unexpected laugh. "You're funny. I like you."

Rachel's stomach does a complete somersault that she desperately tries to ignore.

"All of Sarah's other friends are brats."

And, Rachel's stomach bottoms out, because she's just one of Sarah's friends, and Quinn is probably -

"See ya," Quinn suddenly says, and then she turns and heads to her bedroom. She pauses in her doorway and looks back at Rachel. "By the way," she starts; "I like the just-woke-up look you're sporting. It's cute."

And then she's gone, and Rachel's quite sure she's just died. There's no other explanation for the way her heart skips beats, and her breathing stops.

Oh, God.

Quinn Fabray just called her cute.

Kind of.

Still.

Oh, my God.

* * *

It's just gone eight o'clock when Judy emerges from upstairs to find Rachel sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of tea and her _iPad_ in front of her.

"Oh," Judy says, surprised.

Rachel startles, and then smiles sheepishly. "Good morning, Mrs Fabray."

"Judy, please," she says. "And, good morning to you, too, dear. Have you been awake long?"

"Not really," Rachel lies. "I'm an early riser."

"So unlike Sarah."

Rachel giggles. "She seems like the type to sleep until noon."

"Oh, yes," Judy says, moving towards the kettle to boil some water for her own tea. "She's probably going to use it to her full advantage that my husband isn't home. He isn't really one for wasting the day away."

Rachel just watches as the woman practically floats about the room, which is in such contrast to her own mother. Shelby just doesn't seem to suit the kitchen. It's not her domain, and their entire family knows it. It's kind of a running gag that she and the rest of them would probably starve if it wasn't for Rachel's stepfather

"You could always just wake her," Judy says as she brews her tea. "I'm sure she won't mind... after she's complained for four full minutes."

Rachel smiles knowingly. "It's okay," she says. "It's still early. If she's still out for the count in an hour's time, then I'll wake her." She lifts her cup of tea and gestures at her _iPad_. "I have these two to keep me company for now."

Judy nods. "I'll get started on breakfast, then," she says. "Any preferences?"

"Anything is fine with me, thank you," Rachel says. "Is there anything I can help with?"

"Oh, no, you're our guest," she says. "You just sit there and enjoy your tea. You have free roam of the house. The TV is at your disposal, as well. You could even play the piano. That should definitely get Sarah up."

Rachel laughs lightly, twisting in her chair to watch as Judy shifts towards the fridge to survey what she has on hand. "Does Sarah play?"

"No, the piano's all Quinn," Judy says. "Sarah's technically the guitarist, but Quinn secretly knows how to play as well, and she just doesn't want to steal Sarah's thunder." She looks lost in a memory for a moment. "They used to put on these shows for us where they were younger. Quinn was convinced they were going to start a band."

Rachel smiles at the thought of a young Quinn and Sarah. She's seen pictures around the house, of two blonde girls with huge, beaming smiles, and she wonders how her own life would be if she'd appeared to be that happy in her own childhood.

"They both have their own interests," Judy says, almost talking to herself; "but music is something they share."

Rachel licks her lips. "Sarah's not a cheerleader."

Judy nods. "She's not, no," she says. "She's just not interested, I believe. She's more of an... Academic type, as it were. Science and all of that is what interests her, which is different to Quinn."

"She doesn't like Science?"

"I wouldn't go that far," Judy says, laughing softly. "She's just more... arty. Creative, I think they would call it. She draws and paints and writes."

Rachel knows she should feel bad for trying to learn all these things about Quinn through the girl's mother, but she doesn't know how else she's supposed to without outright asking. She also knows she really shouldn't be this interested in someone who is entirely out of her reach. It's not something she should even be considering at this point, or any point in the future.

Just as Rachel settles on her resolve, none other than Quinn Fabray stumbles into the kitchen, decidedly looking _not_ as if she was a drunk mess just two hours ago. Instead, she looks fresh and bright-eyed. She's wearing red athletic shorts and a white t-shirt with the words 'Dazed and Confused' printed on its front that hugs her body in a way that makes Rachel feel indecent. She has a gym bag slung over her shoulder and her hair is in a tight ponytail.

Quinn looks surprised to find them both in the kitchen, and she mumbles a greeting as she heads to the fridge.

"Morning, honey," Judy says, offering Quinn a smile. "How did you sleep?"

Quinn freezes for a moment, and then says, "Fine."

Judy sighs. "I thought you said you didn't have practice today?"

Quinn shoots a look at her. "I'm surprised you heard _anything_ I had to say at all."

"Quinn."

"We don't have practice when the team wins, which is never," she says. "Anyway, at least it's starting at nine today, and then I'm going to go and hang out with my best friend, because I now have a hell of a lot of sucking up to do for missing her _birthday_."

Judy doesn't even have it in her to argue at this point, so she doesn't.

Rachel doesn't miss the moment Quinn winks at her, but then her head is in the fridge, and Rachel wishes she had something to cool _her_ heated face. This girl is going to be the death of her, and Rachel should just start planning her own funeral.

"Do you at least have time for breakfast?" Judy asks.

Quinn emerges from the fridge with two bottles of water and her leftover carrots in a small container. "No."

"Quinn."

"I'm fine, Mom," Quinn says, smiling softly. "I promise."

Judy moves to stand in front of her. "Are you sure?" she asks carefully, a gentle hand on Quinn's hip. "You normally only complain about fatigue when it's bad."

Quinn shifts uncomfortably, her eyes darting Rachel's way, slightly relieved when the brunette isn't looking, even though she can definitely hear. "Mom," she says. "I'm fine."

Judy sighs. "Okay," she relents, moving to kiss Quinn's forehead. "At least have some cereal."

Quinn rolls her eyes, but does stomp around preparing some granola muesli for herself. She opts for yoghurt instead of milk, and then goes to plop herself down at the kitchen table with Rachel.

"What are you doing?" Quinn asks, seemingly steeling herself for the half cup of muesli she's designated for herself to eat.

Rachel watches her for a moment, slightly fascinated by how... much of an open book Quinn is when she's like this. It's such a contrast to what Rachel has seen of her at school. "Reading," Rachel eventually answers.

"What?"

"It's a novel."

Quinn leans forward. "What kind of novel?"

"Have you heard of John Green?"

"Do I live under a rock?"

Rachel smiles. "Well, I'm reading _Looking for Alaska_ ," she says. "It's... quite heavy."

Quinn nods. "I had no idea what was coming when I first read it," she says. "It's this unexpected thing, even though there's a relative countdown to it."

Rachel presses her lips together. "I haven't really experienced much... death in my life," she says, which is a confession that surprises her. "I can't really... relate in that sense, but I think my empathy dials are currently at their limits."

Quinn looks a little amused, but her eyes are kind. "You're a little weird, did you know that?"

"I did, actually."

"Eat, Quinn," Judy drops into their conversation, and Quinn grumbles something as she goes for another mouthful.

Quinn exaggerates a chew, and she looks so much like a petulant child that Rachel is suitably charmed. "Not even a pet?" she asks.

Rachel snaps to attention. "Excuse me?"

"We had a dog when Sarah and I were younger," Quinn says. "His name was Flapjack, and we were all so in love, but he got old and he got sick, and..." she trails off. "So, not even a pet?"

"No," Rachel says, choosing not to mention she's never actually had a pet before. Their lives in New York were rushed and busy, and, while Rachel knows things are different now, she doesn't think her mother will agree to it, as much as her brothers beg.

"Well," Quinn says; "then I hope it's nothing you ever have to experience."

It's a surprisingly kind thing for her to say, and Rachel is stumped about a response, so she's actually relieved when Quinn gets up from the table and goes to empty her bowl in the trash.

"What time are you going to be home?" Judy asks her.

"I don't know," Quinn says, packing her bottles of water and carrots into her gym bag. "Why?"

"Your father should be back by this afternoon," Judy says. "Think you can make it home for dinner?"

Quinn visibly hesitates, and then says, "Sure."

"Quinn?"

"It's fine, Mom," she says. "I'll be home by six. Is that okay?"

"Yes."

"Okay, I better get going," she says, moving to kiss Judy's cheek. "I love you."

Judy grabs onto her arm and drags her into a hug that makes them both laugh. "I love you, too, crazy girl."

Quinn just shakes her head as she shoulders her bag. She playfully salutes in Rachel's direction. "Later, Berry," she says; "I guess we're going to need a rain-check on that run, huh?"

Rachel barely has time to respond before she's gone, slamming the front door on her way.

Judy lets out a sigh. "I don't know if it's just me, but I always feel particularly exhausted after Hurricane Quinn has blown through here."

Rachel laughs softly. "I can see what you mean."

"I don't know how I keep up with both my girls."

Frankly, Rachel doesn't know how she does it, either.

* * *

Rachel and Judy are in the middle of their avocado toast and poached eggs when Sarah stumbles into the kitchen, looking half asleep. Her hair is a mess and she's rubbing slumber from her right eye. She walks into a counter, and then curses under her breath.

"Sarah," Judy says, and the young blonde snaps to attention. "Good morning, Sweetheart."

Sarah just waves.

"Sleep well?"

She shrugs, which is answer enough. "Quinn gone?"

Judy nods. "There's breakfast for you in the microwave," she says. "We weren't sure what time you'd be up."

"What's the time, anyway?" Sarah asks, shuffling to retrieve her food.

"Just after nine-thirty."

"It's still so early," Sarah whines as she gathers her plate and then goes to sit at the kitchen table with her mother and Rachel. "Hey," she says. "I fell asleep on you."

"You did."

Sarah takes a bite of her toast. "Sorry," she says. "Did Quinn, uh..." she trails off.

"Carry you?" she offers. "Yes."

Sarah ducks her head, feeling slightly embarrassed. "Well, I guess I'm sorry about that, too. It's this...thing she likes to do."

"I think it's sweet," Rachel assures her.

"Yeah, well." She clears her throat. "I hope my mom wasn't boring you too much."

"Hey," Judy says. "We were having a perfectly wonderful conversation about how Rachel is considering becoming a vegan before you showed up with you bedhead and general grumpiness."

Sarah grins at her. "You love me."

Judy bops her nose, a soft smile on her face.

Rachel is already used to the envy she generally feels when she witnesses her friends with their mothers, so this moment isn't anything new. She doesn't have the kind of relationship with Shelby that includes affection like this and she can probably count on one hand the number of hugs they've shared in the past year.

Sarah looks at Rachel. "What time did you say you had to go home again?"

"Noon," she says. "We're having some of my stepdad's colleagues over for an afternoon barbecue."

"That sounds lovely," Judy says.

Rachel winces. "I'm afraid my mother isn't as adept in the kitchen as you, Judy," she says. "So, it could turn out to be more of a disaster than anything. At least Pete can work a grill, so the meat should be fine."

Judy lets out a laugh. "I've got some fixings for some slaw and potato salad, if it's truly dire."

"Oh, no," Rachel quickly says. "I'm sure we'll be fine. We've managed to survive this long without her killing us, so we should be okay."

"If you're sure," Judy says. "I don't mind."

"I'm sure," Rachel says. "Thank you, though."

"Maybe some recipes then," Judy offers. "It can't hurt to have some extra recipes, can it?"

Sarah rolls her eyes. "This is my mom's attempt to be some kind of 1950's Stepford housewife."

Judy flicks her daughter's ear. "Keep at it, and I won't make you any lunch."

"I'll just have yesterday's leftovers," Sarah proudly says.

Judy shakes her head, looking at Rachel. "She won't even attempt to make anything other than Ramen for herself. Utterly useless in the kitchen, this one."

"That's why I have you and Quinn," Sarah says, grinning. "I'm sorted for life."

"What happens when I'm gone?"

Sarah just shoots her an unimpressed look. "You're not going anywhere."

Judy pats her leg under the table. "You're right," she says. "I'm going to be cooking for you when you're married with your own kids."

"As long as you know."


	2. Chapter 2

**II**

Quinn gets home at exactly six o'clock.

She's fully aware she's pushing it a little too far, but she's actually mad at both her parents at the moment. She fought with her father before he left on his business trip, and she's still raging about it.

The entire family knows what the fight was about - Quinn isn't shy of raising her voice to get her point across, which is something she's inherited from her father - and Quinn just wishes he would understand.

She doesn't want to go to some predetermined college and study what he's decided for her, just because he's going to be the one paying for it. She should be allowed to choose what she wants to do with the rest of her life.

This is the modern era, and he needs to realise she has her own wants and desires, and they go beyond what he's had planned since before she was born.

He expects something spectacular of his firstborn, and she's been fighting him the entire way.

Well, not the entire way.

Quinn works hard at her Academics, even if she's not as naturally intelligent as Sarah. She studies hard, and she makes good grades. Good enough to get into all the good colleges, and that's really all her father cares about, right?

But Quinn wants to act, and write, and maybe sing. She wants to spend her days reading novels and talking to playwrights and discussing the intricacies of Byron.

Is that so much to ask?

Things would be different if she were a boy. She would probably be more open to her father's wishes, and he would probably be more accepting, but she's a girl, and things are different for girls.

It's not as if she expects anything different in this society, but she just doesn't think it's fair for him to hold her college funding over her head just to get a lawyer out of her.

A lawyer out of her, and a doctor or engineer out of Sarah.

Those are his plans, and it helps that Sarah is inclined towards either of those things. Quinn thinks she _could_ be a lawyer - it's at least centred around the Humanities - but she doesn't want to be, and it's the single thing she and her father have been clashing over.

Let's not even get started on where Quinn's going to go to college.

So, Quinn steps into the house with only minutes to spare, knowing she's spent the day with two of the people she can really be... sort of herself around.

Santana and Brittany have been her best friends since they were in Grade School, growing together through the years. They know each other's secrets, and Quinn has vented about her father countless times.

Santana is selling her dreams of New York, where she and Brittany are both headed after graduation. Somehow, Quinn will have to convince her father to accept that, but she's not holding her breath.

She'd sooner suffocate to death than change the mind of that stubborn man.

But, she loves him, and she knows he loves her. He just wants what's best for her, and she can't help wishing what he thinks is best for her is actually what she wants.

"Quinn, is that you?" Judy's voice calls out when Quinn closes the front door with an audible click.

Quinn sets her bag on the floor. "Hi, Mom," she says, following the voice through to the kitchen to find her mother busy preparing dinner.

"How was your day?" Judy asks over her shoulder.

"Fine," Quinn answers evasively. "Yours?"

"No complaints."

"Is Dad home?"

Judy turns her body to face Quinn fully. "He is," she says. "He's currently catching a nap, actually. His trip was exhausting, so I really don't need you to - "

"Right," Quinn says. "Don't pick a fight with him. Got it."

"Quinn."

"Do you need help with anything?"

Judy sighs. At what point does she just accept she's never going to win when it comes to Quinn Fabray? Because, really, for all intents and purposes, Quinn _is_ the perfect daughter.

She's always been.

Ever since she was born, really. She wasn't unnecessarily fussy and, as she got older, she was quiet, even shy. She wasn't messy and she wasn't constantly seeking Judy's attention, which proved to be a good thing for when Sarah arrived, because that's when Judy realised just how spoiled she was with Quinn.

Quinn was capable of occupying herself, with her own toys and books, and she didn't feel the need for constant accolades and there was no 'Look, Mommy' and 'Mommy, are you looking?' No. If Quinn had something to show, she would be patient about it.

She did everything asked of her, sometimes even unprompted. The problem, Judy realised far too late, was maybe Quinn was too independent from too young an age. She liked to do things herself, yes, but she also liked to do them at her own time, which was where they started to clash.

Quinn would brush her teeth and have her bath time, but it was a fight to get her to do it when Judy told her to. Russell would just laugh, telling her to let the child be, but now he's on the receiving end of what Quinn vehemently doesn't want to do, and who's laughing now?

Certainly not Judy.

Quinn has excelled in every way. Judy put her in ballet and gymnastics, which she took to with ease. Judy sent her for piano lessons, which she seemed to enjoy. Judy encouraged her love for swimming, and Quinn performed marvellously. Judy suggested cheerleading, and Quinn grabbed at it with both hands.

All while maintaining near perfect grades and not getting into any severe trouble.

Well, there was the incident with the ATV, but they don't speak of that... mainly because it was certainly Sarah's fault, even if Quinn suffered the consequences.

As the older one.

Judy thinks she and Russell took it for granted that Quinn would continue to bend to their wishes and, when she inevitably pushed back, neither of them was prepared. Judy accepts they're definitely going at it the wrong way. The more Russell pushes for Law, the more Quinn will fight it.

The problem is, though, that Quinn's far too smart for reverse psychology to work on her, so they're going to have to come up with something different.

It's not fair on Quinn, Judy knows, because the same pressures haven't been placed on Sarah. As the older child, all of it has been distributed to Quinn. The expectations to succeed and carry the Fabray name to ultimate highs.

Law is just the start. Judy knows, if Russell had his way, he would have already laid out the political career he's already envisioned for her. Getting Quinn to want it as well is going to be difficult, and holding her college fund ransom definitely isn't playing into their hands.

She's a product of the both of them, which means she's inherited _two_ stubborn genes. They're definitely in for an interesting year.

Clearing her throat in an attempt to settle her own mind, Judy says, "Can you start on the Greek salad, please?"

Quinn just nods, and then gets to work in silence. Making the salad is usually Sarah's job, but her sister positively hates it, so Quinn usually takes it off her hands in exchange for her chopping the more pungent vegetables.

"Quinn?" Judy suddenly says, snapping Quinn out of her thoughts.

"Yeah?"

"What do you think of Rachel?"

Quinn is suitably caught off guard by the question, and she ducks her head to hide her frown that's followed by a blush. _Well, Mom, I think a hell of a lot of Rachel, but I wouldn't want to scar you_.

"Uh, what do you mean?" Quinn asks, trying to buy herself some time.

"I mean, she seems nice, right? Quiet and polite. She was happy to spend her Friday evening working on homework, which is just the type of friend one needs."

Quinn realises it's a dig at her own best friend, Santana, who would probably eat nails before she did any type of schoolwork on a Friday night.

Quinn just nods. "She was nice, yeah," she agrees uncomfortably.

"Especially after your display last night."

Quinn clenches her jaw, saying nothing. She just finishes with the salad, sets the bowl on the kitchen table, and then disappears upstairs until she's called for dinner.

* * *

It's uncomfortable.

Russell doesn't bring up the massive fight he and Quinn had before he left for Cincinnati on his business trip, and Quinn doesn't bring up anything at all.

Judy and Sarah do most of the talking, most of which involves Sarah's new friend, Rachel. Quinn is caught between being relieved that they're talking about her, and wishing they would stop.

"Rachel who?" Russell asks. "Do I know the family?"

"Rachel Berry," Sarah says. "Her family just moved here from New York."

Russell raises his eyebrows. "New York, huh?"

"She says her mother grew up around Akron, so they thought Ohio was where to move to."

Russell hums. "Berry, you said?"

"Well, that's her father's name," Sarah says, her brow wrinkling. "Her parents are divorced, and she's here with her mother, stepfather and two little brothers."

"Name?"

Sarah pauses. "Pete something, I don't know his surname," she says. "I know her mother teaches at McKinley, and she goes by Corcoran."

"Corcoran," Russell ponders. "I can't say I recognise the name. Are they a good family? Good people? Religious?"

Sarah lifts her shoulders, and then drops them. "I don't know, Dad," she says. "She mentioned her mother grew up singing in church, so I imagine they follow some religion."

"Be careful," Russell says. "Those people from the big cities tend to lose their way."

Sarah laughs. "Not Rachel," she says. "You should meet her, Dad. She's probably the nicest person I've ever met."

Judy nods. "Definitely. Polite to a fault, really."

Russell looks at Quinn. "I'm sure you're going to sing her praises as well?"

Quinn can't help herself. "I heard she's a Yankees' fan."

And, Russell laughs and laughs.

* * *

At this point in her life, Quinn recognises that going to church equates to parading her in front of the other families, in order to show her off.

Quinn hates it, but she's come to accept it.

She likes church. She likes the act of worship, cultivating this relationship she has with God. She enjoys how personal it is, and she really likes the music.

What she doesn't like is what happens afterwards.

Exiting the church is something out of the _Hunger Games_ , really. They leave as a family, greet the Reverend, and then congregate on the front lawn to mingle with all the other cookie-cutter, four-person families.

Judy is constantly on the lookout for a good Christian boy for her, and she seems to have set her eyes on William McIntosh, who has the unfortunate honour of being nicknamed Biff.

He comes from a good family, and he's expected to go to Law School as well. He's decent enough to look at, Quinn accepts, but his personality is lacking. He's also a bit of a misogynist, in that he's of the belief that he's better than her merely because of a particular, different chromosome.

So, really, he's an asshole.

But, still, Quinn accepts it when he sits next to her at the lunch table over at the McIntosh house, and she even lets him take a walk with her in their massive backyard after they've eaten pie.

It all feels like a different time, and it's as if she's putting on some kind of show for the entire world to see.

Because, all she really wants to do is... well, not this.

"So, we should go out some time," Biff says, his hands in his pockets and his gaze intense.

Quinn frowns at him. "Is that how you're actually asking me out?"

"Uh, yes."

Quinn rolls her eyes, and then skips ahead of him a few steps. "You're really going to have to work on it if you expect any decent girl to say yes to you, McIntosh."

"Does that mean you're saying no?"

Quinn winks at him. "By my calculation, you haven't even asked."

Biff looks perplexed. "I just did."

"Then, I'm saying no," she says.

"You're saying no?"

"I am."

"Huh."

Quinn shrugs. "You really need to work on how you ask girls out," she says. "Nobody's going to say yes when you do it like that."

"Are you seriously giving me advice on how to get a girl to say yes to me?"

Quinn arches an eyebrow. "You obviously need it."

"I'm a catch."

"You're an ass."

His eyes widen. "Wow, Fabray, do you kiss your mother with that mouth?"

She laughs, absently twirling, because she's having far too much fun messing with him. "Have you even kissed anyone who isn't your family?"

"Of course I have," he rushes to say. "I'm a catch, remember?"

"Who?"

"What?"

"Who've you kissed?"

He pauses. "Uh, Sally from the country club."

Quinn laughs out loud. "Sally Pemberton?"

"You know her?"

"I'm sure every poor soul in this Hell of a town has kissed Sally Pemberton. Doesn't count."

"What do you care, anyway?"

"I like boys with experience."

"That why you're moving around with that man whore Puckerman?"

Quinn's easy demeanour shifts immediately, and Biff stiffens at the mere idea he's brought out the infamous Head Bitch he's heard so much about.

"Say what you want about me, _Biff_ ," Quinn hisses. "But you leave my friends out of it, do you hear me? I could ruin you if I wanted to, and you really, really don't want to test me."

"Right," he says, stepping back, suddenly uncomfortable.

Quinn clears her throat. "Now, it's obvious I'm definitely not the girl for you," she says, rolling her eyes at just how much of an understatement that is. "Do you or do you not want my help actually getting yourself a date?"

"What makes you think you can help me?"

"I'm a girl," she says, scoffing at his stupidity. "I know what girls like." It's a half-truth, as far as she's concerned, and she thinks it'll be a neat exercise to... woo a girl through Biff.

"You're insane," he says.

"So, you don't want my help, then?" she asks. "Come on, you must have your eyes set on some girl."

"I asked _you_ out."

"And, I said no," she patiently says. "Who's next?"

He gives it a bit of thought. "What about that Katherine Wilde?"

Quinn frowns slightly. "Kitty?"

"She's cute, isn't she?"

Quinn wouldn't call her that, no, because she knows what the girl is actually like and, as much of an asshole Biff is, even he doesn't deserve to be railroaded by the force that is Kitty Wilde. The girl will eat him alive. So, she says, "What about Marley Rose?"

"Who?"

She rolls her eyes, because he obviously doesn't pay as much attention to other girls as she does. It's almost funny.

 _Almost_.

She walks up to him and links her arm with his, starting them on their way back to the main house. "Listen to me, McIntosh," she says. "You do as I say, and I'll land you the girl of your dreams."

Biff still looks uncertain, but her encouraging smile settles his apprehension. "What do I do?"

* * *

The weeks following Rachel's first visit to the Fabray home are odd ones.

Nothing about her life actually changes, but there's a certain understanding that seems to have settled over and through her.

About herself, and about where she fits into this new life her parents are determined to have her live. As if moving to a new place was magically just going to fix everything. It was naïve of them; some hopeful, last-ditch plan to ensure their daughter... isn't one of _those_.

As if it's some disease.

Rachel also knows that this... crush she seems to have on Quinn can end only badly. Not only is she the most popular girl in school, McKinley's Queen Bee, but she's also definitely not interested in girls.

Right?

She can't be.

It's suddenly as if Rachel sees her more often. Everywhere, really. In the corridors, in the cafeteria, in the parking lot. They even cross paths in the bathroom a handful of times, and Rachel gets a small smile out of each of those interactions.

It makes her fifteen-year-old self incredibly giddy, and it's really not helping with her stance that she needs to do everything she can to nip this in the bud.

It also really doesn't help that Rachel's - probable - best friend is now Sarah Fabray, who seems to have latched onto her for some reason. Rachel is slightly wary of it, because she knows she's predictably going to have to deal with Sarah wanting to come over to her house at some point, and she doesn't know how that's going to go down with her mother.

Shelby asks her, daily, if she's making friends, and she kind of is. It's just that she knows Shelby's really interested in the friends that are boys, and those include and are limited to Kurt Hummel and Artie Abrahams.

Not quite what Shelby had in mind, Rachel imagines, so she talks only about Sarah, Mercedes and Tina. Maybe these girls, who seem to be interested in boys, will help steer her in the correct direction, right?

Well, Sarah has definitely steered her in a very particular direction, and now she has the problem of liking Quinn Fabray with which to deal.

* * *

"So, when are you coming over again?" Sarah asks, throwing herself into her chair beside Rachel and letting out a tired sigh. "My mom's been asking about you. You're the most polite friend Quinn or I have ever had, and she thinks you're a good influence on us."

Rachel lets out a little laugh. " _I'm_ a good influence?"

Sarah narrows her eyes. "Are you trying to say you're _not_ a good influence?" she asks, her tone mischievous. "Because that would be news to me."

"Na ah, Sarah Fabray, we both know you're the bad influence in this friendship."

"Am I corrupting you, Rachel?"

Rachel laughs, because, God, this girl has no idea. "You wish."

Sarah sighs dramatically. "Will you just come over this weekend?" she asks. "We can work on World Geography, and don't you have that song you said you want to prepare for that audition for that, uh, club or something?"

"Glee Club, Sarah," Rachel says. "I still think you should join with me."

"No."

"Why not?"

"I can't sing," Sarah says. "Quinn's the one with the voice."

Rachel does her best to ignore any news about Quinn. "Will you just try?" she asks.

"I'm not the creative one in my family," she says. "I mean, music and all that isn't really..."

"Sarah?"

"Hmm?"

"What would Quinn tell you right now?"

Sarah rolls her eyes. "She'd probably tell me to quit being a little shit and stop making excuses," she says. "I mean, whatever, right? It could be fun."

Rachel beams at her. "Of course, it will," she says. "You'll be with me."

"Yeah, yeah," Sarah grumbles. "Just don't make me start singing show tunes or something."

"I would never dream of doing such a thing."

Sarah eyes her critically. "I don't believe you."

"That's not my fault."

"God, what was my life like before I met you?"

"Pretty boring, I'd say."

Sarah shakes her head. "We're in for it with you, aren't we?"

Rachel just shrugs.

She thinks they're _all_ in for it, really.

* * *

"Quinn?"

Said blonde turns away from her open locker to spy her sister headed her way with Rachel in tow. Her heart rate quickens slightly when Rachel smiles at her, but she manages to keep her features schooled.

"What's up, baby sister?" she asks. "Berry."

"Fabray," Rachel says, looking amused.

Sarah gets a little too close to her, as she is wont to do; her face basically a breath away from Quinn's. "We need a ride."

"Uh, no."

"Come on," Sarah says. "We have to go somewhere, and you're really the only person we trust to get us to and from our destination safely."

"I'm flattered," Quinn says, pressing a hand over her heart; "but, still no."

"You don't even know where we need to go," Sarah says, almost whining. "It's important."

Quinn sighs. "Okay, I'll bite," she says. "Where do you need to go?"

Sarah leans forward. "Marco's."

Quinn frowns. "The music shop?"

Sarah nods.

"Why?"

"For music, duh."

"I'd watch the sass if I were asking for a ride," Quinn says, and Sarah grins a little. "Why don't you just ask Mom?"

"She's busy, and we have to go today, because we need to practice for our auditions."

"Your auditions?"

"For Glee Club."

"Oh, God."

"What?"

Quinn wants to hide her head in her locker. "Sarah," she says; "can I speak to you in private?"

If Rachel feels a little burned by the request, she doesn't show it. She just says, "I'll see you in the cafeteria," to Sarah and then walks away without looking at Quinn.

The blonde tries not to feel hurt by the dismissal.

"What?" Sarah says, almost snapping. "What's wrong with Glee Club?"

"Jesus, Sarah," she mutters; " _everything_ is wrong with Glee Club." She shakes her head. "I have a hard enough time keeping the jocks off your back without you adding another loser club to the roster."

Sarah frowns. "Excuse me?"

Quinn sighs and drops the volume of her voice. "Look, can you maybe just... reconsider? I didn't even know you _liked_ singing."

"I don't, not really," she says; "but Rachel does, and I'm trying to be a supportive friend."

Quinn blanches, because there's really no way she can realistically protect _Rachel_ from the Neanderthals of this school. Sarah's a Fabray, which makes her somewhat off-limits because she's Quinn's little sister, but she really doesn't help herself by being a Mathlete, a UN Debater and all those other amazing Academic things the idiots of this world feel the need to look down on.

The second Rachel joins this club, she can be guaranteed a daily slushy facial, and the idea of that makes Quinn feel sick to her stomach.

"Look, are you going to take us to Marco's or what?" Sarah asks; "because I can totally ask Puck."

"Like Hell you're asking Puck," she growls. "Whatever. Be at my car straight after school. And you better not take too long, because I have to be back for the game."

"Oh, yeah, Rachel and I are coming to watch," she says. "She's never actually been to a football game before. Can you believe that?"

Quinn feels an unexplainable jealousy that she won't be able to share that first experience with Rachel, and she shakes her head to clear it of that supremely irrational thought. Jesus.

"Okay," Quinn says. "Straight after school. Don't be late."

* * *

"I thought you said not to be late," Sarah grumbles as Quinn unlocks the trunk of her car, arriving fifteen minutes after the last bell.

"Mr Nichols wanted to talk to me," Quinn says. "And, stop leaning against my car with those jeans. You're going to mess up the paint."

Sarah tosses her school bag into the trunk, and then calls shotgun before getting into the passenger's side.

Quinn glances at Rachel, who looks a little unsure. "You weren't actually waiting long, were you?"

"No," Rachel says, carefully placing her bag beside Sarah's. "She's just being dramatic."

"It's her middle name."

"It's actually Jane, and can we please get going?" Sarah calls out.

Quinn rolls her eyes as she deposits her own bag, and then moves to the driver's side. Without giving it much thought, she opens the back door for Rachel, who immediately blushes, and then ducks into the car.

Quinn spends a moment gathering herself before she gets in as well, and starts the ignition. It's okay. It… wasn't that weird, was it?

Sarah immediately fiddles with the radio while Quinn slips on her sunglasses. This way, when she sneaks looks at Rachel through the rearview mirror, nobody will know.

That's what she thinks, at least, as she starts to back out of her parking spot, but it's as if Rachel can sense whenever she looks, because those chestnut eyes always seems to lift whenever she risks a peek.

Well.

The ride is made mostly in silence, give or take a few of Sarah's comments on the Top 40 radio station she's found. Quinn feels both unsettled and not, and she knows it has everything to do with the girl currently sitting in her backseat.

When they pull up at Marco's, Sarah barely waits for Quinn to shift into Park before she's getting out of the car.

Rachel's pace is slower, more normal, and Quinn watches them disappear into the shop with purpose. She contemplates whether or not to follow them inside, eventually deciding she'll wait at least twenty minutes before she goes in.

In the meantime, she takes out her phone and texts Santana about what the plans for the evening are. Apparently, she's planning on hitting up a college party in Columbus with Brittany and a few other cheerleaders and jocks.

Quinn doesn't think she can get away with it with her father going to be home tonight. Plus, going all the way to Columbus just to get hit on by drunk college boys doesn't really sound like a good time to her.

She could just stay home tonight, maybe get some reading done, write a little. It could be a good, relaxing evening.

That sounds more appealing to her at the moment.

Declining Santana's invitation, Quinn finally heads inside, curious about what the two girls are actually doing. She's surprised and also not to find Sarah listening to music via headphones in the corner, and Rachel carefully searching the array of sheet music.

Almost without her consent, Quinn moves towards the brunette, her heart beating a little faster. "Hey," she says, getting Rachel's attention. "Find anything?"

Rachel looks up at her, blushing slightly. "Sort of," she says. "Have you heard the song _On My Own_ from the seminal Broadway classic, Les Mis?"

"Can't say I have," Quinn says, not actually having to think about it. "Is that what you're thinking of singing?"

"Well, it's either that or something from my extensive Barbra Streisand repertoire."

"You're a fan?"

Rachel laughs unexpectedly. "Something like that, yeah," she says. "I think I was breastfed on her music."

Quinn smiles softly, suitably charmed. "I can't say I've listened to much of her music," she admits.

"Uh huh," Rachel says, resuming her searching. "I didn't find any on your _iPod_."

"Oh, right," Quinn says, keeping her focus on Rachel when she really should be at least pretending to sift through the music. "What _did_ you think about my collection of music?"

Rachel peeks at her, unsure how she's supposed to handle having Quinn's full attention this way. The girl is distractingly stunning, and Rachel's quite certain she'll never be able to get the image of Quinn Fabray in Wayfarers out of her head for as long as she lives.

"Honestly?" Rachel asks, trying to buy herself time.

Quinn nods, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.

Rachel's eyes drop to her mouth, and she has to pinch herself to stop making such a fool of herself. "Uh, well, there was quite a lot of Pop on there, and Rock. A lot of Indie, too." She licks her lips. "I was pleasantly surprised by the Hip Hop, to be honest," she says.

"Oh?"

"Doesn't... seem like you, really."

Quinn lets out a soft laugh. "What _does_ seem like me?"

"The Hillsong I found on there," Rachel says. "Do you listen to a lot of Christian music?"

Quinn hesitates, and then she nods.

"Because you like the music, or because it's _Christian_ music?"

Quinn frowns. "I don't understand," she says.

Rachel's eyes widen slightly. "Uh, never mind," she rushes to say, looking away. "I don't even know what I'm asking."

Quinn steps closer to her and drops the volume of her voice. "Hey," she murmurs. "If you're trying to ask me about my religion, you can just ask me, you know? I don't mind talking about it."

Rachel meets her gaze. "You're a Christian?"

Quinn nods. "Roman Catholic, yes," she says.

"Practicing?"

"Church every Sunday, yes," she says, almost rolling her eyes. "Bible Studies, Youth Group, the works."

Rachel regards her carefully. "You don't sound as if you enjoy any of it," she points out.

"I don't, not really," Quinn says. "I mean, I like going to church, usually, because it's supposed to be this place of worship, you know, but... it's changed, in this town."

"What do you mean?"

Quinn looks thoughtful for a moment, and Rachel realises she's about to get significant insight into the thinking of Quinn Fabray. "Sometimes, I get the feeling it's become less about God," she says, and her voice is so low that Rachel has to lean in to hear her. "It's more about people trying to best each other, somewhat. They go to church for appearances' sake, sometimes, and I hate it."

Rachel thinks she understands what Quinn is trying to say. She wants to ask more, because she hasn't really figured out what Quinn's thoughts on... homosexuality are, and she doesn't know if that's the type of question you can just ask of a stranger.

She hasn't even inquired about Sarah's feelings towards it yet, and she's almost too afraid to find out at this point. What happens then? Would she lose the closest friend she's ever had?

It isn't as if Rachel has any intention of... doing anything. Her proclivities, as it were, are the reason they had to leave New York. Her mother was convinced being in the big city was... 'Turning' her, and she needed to nip it in the bud.

She wouldn't have Rachel turning out like her father, now would she?

Rachel isn't supposed to be gay, so she's not going to be.

But, someone please have mercy, because Quinn is a stunning creature, and Rachel knows no good can come of them spending time together. It was easier to ignore her childish fascination when Quinn was just the Head Cheerleader with the cold stare who roamed the corridors, but now Quinn smiles and laughs and her hazel eyes twinkle, and Rachel is going to lose a battle that hasn't even started.

"I believe in God," Quinn says. "I have faith, and I believe in the Higher Power, but..." she trails off. "But, I guess I don't just accept everything as it's written. As it's interpreted."

Rachel thinks Quinn is trying to tell her something very important, and she's about to ask for some clarification when they're interrupted by Sarah.

"I found it," Sarah exclaims, reaching for Rachel's hand and tugging. "It's perfect."

Rachel allows herself to be dragged away, but she glances over her shoulder at Quinn, unsurprised to find the blonde still looking at her.

There's a question in her eyes, but Rachel doesn't know her nearly well enough to figure it out.

She's resolved to keep it that way.

Because, really, Rachel worries, with every second she spends with Quinn, that she's falling deeper and deeper into this hole she won't be able to climb out of, but there's really nothing to be done about it.

Quinn has her attention.

Quinn has her entire focus and, when they eventually find themselves sitting in the bleachers at the game later that evening, Sarah keeps having to nudge her to get her to pay attention to the plays on the actually field.

She has no attention to spare.

Rachel is fully aware she's been staring at Quinn for long enough to be creepy. She's trying to be subtle about it, but the girl is right there in the shortest skirt imaginable, and she's twirling and dancing and doing these jumps, and Rachel is... lost.

Wholly and completely.

Quinn has the longest legs imaginable, her muscles tensing and flexing as she moves, and it's just too much.

The halftime display has her sweating all over, and Rachel hates that she's been reduced to a typical teenage boy when it comes to ogling a particular blonde cheerleader. She's quite certain she's not the only one, as well, which makes her feel even worse.

But, the Quinn on display is cheeky and sassy and smiley, and Rachel wonders how the girl doesn't get exhausted from putting on what Rachel has come to learn is an _act_ for extended periods of time. Rachel thinks she gets to see the real Quinn - the one who's dark and twisted - and she should be relieved Quinn even remembers how to be herself, even if she hides it.

"I'm going to go out on a limb and make the wild claim that football doesn't interest you," Sarah says when the final whistle blows and the crowd cheers. "Like, at all."

Rachel snaps to attention, dragging her eyes away from where Quinn is shouting out instructions to her Squad. "Hmm?"

"Did you even notice we actually won our first game of the season?"

"What?"

Sarah just shakes her head. "Come on," she says; "Quinn said to meet at her car."

Rachel almost wants to scream _No_ , and then walk home herself, but that would just raise unnecessary questions she's not prepared to answer.

Quinn hasn't done anything wrong. It's not her fault Rachel is feeling these things, which is what she's had to convince herself of in the dead of night after she's attempted to cry herself to sleep following yet another non-fight with her mother.

It's exhausting.

 _Quinn_ is exhausting, especially when she does that cute little jump onto both feet when she arrives at her car's trunk, smiling widely at both fifteen-year-olds.

"Can you believe it?" Quinn asks, unlocking the car and opening her trunk. "Like, can you actually believe it? San's convinced it's going to snow in October, because we actually won. What sorcery is this?"

Sarah is clearly amused by her sister's antics. "Why are you so happy?" she asks. "You don't even care about football."

"Well, duh," Quinn says, setting her bag in the trunk. "But, I do care when they win, because, God, this is going to be the first Saturday we don't have Cheerios practice in like five million years."

"You're so dramatic," Sarah deadpans, moving to climb into the car.

"Pot, meet kettle," Quinn calls out, and then does the thing and winks at Rachel with a mischievous glint in her eye.

Heaven help her.

* * *

It's the sound of Quinn's snort that draws Rachel's attention, and she looks away from the television at the girl sitting at the opposite end of the couch.

Quinn lifts her gaze from her phone to look at her. "Santana's at a party in Columbus," she explains; "and she's sending me a complete thesis on just how important Professor McGonagall was in Harry Potter's life." She reaches across to show Rachel the screen.

Rachel leans in to read the texts that are no more than a garbled mess about love and honour and biscuits. She lets out a laugh. "I agree with her, wholeheartedly."

Quinn chuckles. "I'll be sure to let her know when she's sober and completely mortified by her behaviour."

"You sound irritated," Rachel points out, slightly curious about it.

It's just the two of them in the living room. Quinn ended up taking the two girls for pizza - which may or may not have been a tactic of avoidance with regards to her father - and they arrived home after their parents retired for the evening.

Right now, Sarah is upstairs in the shower. They all went at the same time, but Sarah is notorious for taking her sweet time, so Quinn and Rachel have been alone for all of seven minutes, and Rachel is bound to make a fool of herself.

"Not really," Quinn says. "Should I be?"

"I don't know," she responds. "I guess I just don't get why people find drunk texts annoying, to begin with." She sounds slightly exasperated. "Isn't it nice knowing you're the person they're thinking of when their brain isn't even functioning properly?"

Quinn stares at her for a moment, thinking over what she's said. "Trust you to make sense of everything," she finds herself saying.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asks quickly, unsure if Quinn is actually insulting her or trying to pay her a compliment. Either one makes her slightly uncomfortable, because these are the situations she needs to avoid.

Quinn just smiles, her eyes bright, and Rachel's heart wants to take off again. "I don't mean anything by it," she assures. "You just seem like the sort of person who's got it all figured out."

Rachel has to laugh at that, because she's felt like a complete and utter mess since she first _spoke_ to Quinn. She's completely out-of-sorts, and she's surprised by the fact she's been able to make it through the past three weeks when all she's thought about is the blonde currently eyeing her curiously.

Rachel clears her throat. "What could I possibly know?" she asks, almost innocently. "I'm only fifteen."

Quinn's face falls slightly at the unfortunate reminder of her age. What on earth is she doing? This girl is the same age as her sister, for goodness' sake. She swallows, finally coming to her senses. "Well," she says; "you still seem to have more figured out than I do, at the moment."

Rachel tilts her head to the side. "Why do you say that?"

Quinn hesitates, unsure if she should even be having this sort of conversation with a girl she barely knows. "I guess I'm just unsure about a lot of things at the moment," she says. "One could say my dreams for the rest of my life aren't necessarily lining up with the dreams my father has for me."

"Oh."

Quinn shrugs. "It's whatever," she says. "I still have a few months to figure things out. We'll see what happens."

Rachel has the sudden desire to comfort her in some way, and the lost look on Quinn's face really isn't helping. Her brow is creased, and Rachel has the near irrepressible urge to smooth it with the pad of her thumb.

Quinn always just seems so much more real in moments like these, and Rachel wishes she could always be like this.

It's a futile desire, she knows, but she's decided to want lots of things she can't have, apparently.

"What do you want to be when you grow up?" Quinn suddenly asks.

Rachel barely has to think about it. "An actress on Broadway."

Quinn raises her eyebrows. "Really?"

"Really," Rachel confirms. "I've been working since I was three years old to reach that dream, and..." she trails off. "I guess, not many people can understand what it's like to want something so desperately from such a young age, and be willing to do just about anything to make sure it happens."

"I guess not," Quinn quietly agrees. "Good for you then, Berry."

"What about you?" Rachel asks.

"What about me?"

"What do you want to be when you grow up?"

Quinn can't handle looking at her, so she rather focuses on her own hands when she answers. "When I was little, I wanted to be a... plant scientist." She lets out an amused breath. "That's what I used to call it, can you imagine? And then I wanted to be a doctor, because I think every kid wants to be a doctor at some point in their lives." She grins a little. "You're the exception, obviously."

Rachel smiles back at her, wondering how she's supposed to fight her feelings when Quinn is being so open with her.

"But, I guess, now I want to be a writer," Quinn admits so softly that Rachel barely hears her. "It's not some kind of secret that I write, but it's just not a feasible career for me to pursue, and I - " she stops, sighing. "I wish I was brave enough to go after it the way you are."

Rachel looks at her, serious and unassuming. "I think you'll come through when the time calls for it," she says. She would say more, but it's the moment Sarah finally shows herself, and Rachel's mouth snaps shut.

Quinn just smiles once in appreciation, and then returns her attention to her phone.

Fifteen minutes later, Quinn gets up and says she's headed to bed. She makes sure to remind Sarah to switch off all the lights before they head up, bids them both goodnight, and then disappears.

Rachel can't tell if she's relieved or disappointed.

* * *

As is usual, Rachel's eyes automatically open at six o'clock on the dot. It's not something she's entirely convinced she wants to change about herself, but she would definitely like to have her ability to return to sleep after she wakes adjusted.

Just, small mercies, please.

Sighing heavily, she rolls out of bed and makes her way to the bathroom. She's careful and silent as she pads across the floor, wary of running into Quinn, as is wont to happen whenever she's in this house. And, as cute as Quinn claims her just-woke-up look is, Rachel would rather not be in that state in front of her ever again.

Well.

Not unintentionally.

Rachel brushes her teeth, washes her face and uses the toilet before she returns to the guest bedroom. She throws on one of her Argyle sweaters and then heads down the stairs.

It's still a little disconcerting moving around the Fabray home without anyone around, but she tries not to think about it too much. She heads to the kitchen to make herself some tea, and then she goes to the living room to watch television.

This is how Quinn finds her nearly an hour later, her feet tucked under her body and her chin resting on her left hand. She's completely relaxed, which is such a contrast to how she feels in her own home.

With her own family, she's constantly worried that one of them can hear what she's thinking, and then there will be some kind of fight, and then they'll move again.

She hates that her mother has made it clear to her brothers that the reason they even moved in the first place is because she did something.

They obviously don't know what, but it's definitely _something_.

And, frankly, Rachel would do it again.

Quinn is biting into a green apple when she enters the living room, and her eyes light up when she sees Rachel. "You're up."

"Good morning to you, too," Rachel says, unable to stop herself from smiling at her.

"Have you been up long?" Quinn asks, moving to drop her body onto the opposite end of the couch.

"Not really."

"I think you lie, Miss Berry."

Rachel just shrugs, her eyes desperate to trail along Quinn's exposed legs. She's wearing the kind of shorts that were probably designed to torture people like Rachel.

"You should probably know that Sarah's really not an early riser," Quinn says. "She's also not a night owl. She likes her sleep. You're bound to spend a lot of time alone."

"But, I'm not alone," Rachel points out.

Quinn arches an eyebrow. "You don't think I have better things to do than babysit my kid sister's friend?"

Rachel would feel affronted if Quinn weren't smiling. "Well, I don't know, Quinn, do you?" She turns her body slightly. "I mean, you're sitting here with me right now, aren't you?"

"I'm polite," she says with a shrug. "You're also in my seat."

"I don't see your name anywhere."

"Did you even look?"

"Would I even find it?"

Quinn just grins at her, and then goes for another bite of her apple. The crunch is almost deafening, but they don't look away from each other.

Rachel wonders if Quinn can sense her attraction, as if it's written all over her forehead that she thinks Quinn is the most stunning person she's ever met.

Sometimes, she gets the feeling she reeks of it; of this sin her mother is desperate to force out of her. She's supposed to hide it, she knows, but she can't stop herself from staring at Quinn. Her eyes, her nose, her lips, her ears, her hair, her neck. It's a really glorious neck.

"You would probably find Sarah's name," Quinn says. "She used to write on every surface available. A right menace, that one."

The more time Rachel spends with both Quinn and Sarah, the more insight she's being offered into the relationship between them. It's unlike anything she's experienced before, given that she's never really had friends who are girls.

In truth, she doesn't know much about the girl asleep upstairs. Sure, they're in a lot of the same classes, and, yes, they sit together in some of those classes, but there's only so much you can learn about a person just by talking to them.

Rachel returns her attention to the television, visibly amused by the antics of Tim Allen in _Last Man Standing._

Still, Quinn watches her, clearly not shy about staring. She knows she should stop. It's inappropriate, wrong, even rude, but she just can't take her eyes off the brunette.

All of a sudden, she understands the ridiculous cliché.

This girl is beautiful, and the best part is she doesn't even know it.

She knows she shouldn't, but she can't help herself. "So," Quinn starts, smiling softly; "about that run?"

* * *

Rachel thinks she's prepared, but she's really not.

Going for a run with Quinn seems like a good idea right until the moment they're actually on their way, and she can hear Quinn _breathing_ right beside her.

Rachel _tries_ to focus on her steps and her own breathing. She _tries_ not to look at Quinn, but the girl is like a magnet, and she finds her gaze drifting more often than not.

Quinn has perfect form as she runs, her back straight and her legs propelling her forward with simple grace. It's obvious she's been properly trained and, based on what she's heard about the cheerleading budget, it's not surprising.

Quinn runs with purpose, and it puts Rachel to shame.

Still, she manages to keep up with Quinn's somewhat blistering pace for at least three miles before she visibly starts to fade.

When Quinn notices, she slows her feet, and Rachel sends her a grateful smile, which turns out to be a mistake... because Quinn is sweaty and red and breathing heavily and looking at her with curious eyes.

So, it's almost inevitable that she trips... and would hit the ground if Quinn's left hand didn't immediately shoot out to steady her, though she doesn't make contact before Rachel can catch herself.

The would-be-fall brings them both to a stop, and they exchange a single look before they both burst out laughing. Rachel doubles over, partly because she can't breathe but mostly because she might pass out if she keeps looking at Quinn.

Because Quinn is also breathing and laughing, and her chest is heaving, and Rachel just wants to stare.

She has a feeling that might not go down well.

"You okay?" Quinn eventually asks, getting control of her laughter and breathing.

Rachel finally straightens and smiles in reassurance. "I'm fine," she says. "You're just very fast."

"Oh."

"Oh, what?"

"Nothing."

Rachel eyes her carefully. "That wasn't your fastest, was it?"

Quinn shrugs. "You sure you're okay?"

Rachel nods.

"Think you can manage to jog back?"

Rachel gets them started, and, after a few quick steps, Quinn is right beside her, looking as if she hasn't just run almost four miles already.

It's not fair.

Quinn shouldn't get to do this to her.

Still, somehow, Rachel lets her.

* * *

When they finally make it back to the house, they find Judy in the kitchen, with a man Rachel can only assume is the patriarch of the family, Russell Fabray. Judy is busy at the stove and Russell is sitting at the kitchen table with his newspaper.

"Sarah still not up?" Quinn asks, moving to kiss Russell on the cheek and stealing a piece of pineapple from his plate.

"Is that a rhetorical question?" Russell questions, looking over at Rachel. "Good morning."

"Good morning, Sir," Rachel says, nervously wringing her fingers together. She's flushed and sweaty, and this is definitely not how she wants to be introduced to Quinn and Sarah's father.

"Is this the famous Rachel I've been hearing so much about?" Russell asks his wife, smiling in Rachel's direction.

Steeling herself, Rachel steps forward and holds out her hand. "Rachel Berry, Sir," she says. "It's nice to meet you."

Russell looks slightly amused, but he shakes her hand, regardless. "You too, dear," he says. "Please call me Russell." Rachel is definitely not going to do that. "My girls seem quite taken with you; including the tall one standing over the stove."

"Russell," Judy says, laughing.

Rachel flushes even more, which she didn't even think was possible. "Oh, uh..."

Quinn laughs knowingly. "Come on, Berry," she says. "We can let him tease us later. I don't know about you, but I want to get out of these sweaty clothes."

And, Rachel is suddenly thankful for the red already in her cheeks, because the sheer thought of Quinn sans clothing sends her heart into overdrive.

Jesus.

"Yeah," Rachel says, sounding a little breathless.

Quinn starts to go.

Judy calls after her. "Wake your sister while you're up there, would you?"

"Yes, Ma'am," she calls over her shoulder, and then smiles when she locks eyes with Rachel. She gestures for them to get going, and Rachel practically skips into motion, following close behind Quinn.

Quinn walks slowly up the stairs. "So, that was my Dad," she says.

"He seems nice," Rachel says, unsure what else to say.

Quinn just hums noncommittally, and then they part ways in silence.

Rachel thinks she needs the time and space away from Quinn, just to gather her wits. She just went on a run with Quinn. She just spent close to an hour alone with Quinn, _and_ she just about survived it.

Sort of.

Her heart is still beating a little too fast and her breathing hasn't slowed, and it has nothing to do with the physical exercise she's just participated in.

It's _Quinn_.

And it's a very big problem.

* * *

Rachel doesn't exactly take her time in the shower, but she also doesn't rush. She needs to give herself enough time to recover from her run with Quinn, her meeting with Russell and the general acceptance that she has a massive, disastrous, gay crush on her friend's older sister.

Oh, this is all just going to end terribly.

When Rachel is ready, she peeks into Sarah's room to check if she's up, and she's surprised to find the girl's bed empty. Little victories.

She finds Sarah downstairs, already seated at the kitchen table with Russell and Judy.

Judy smiles when she sees her. "Quinn not with you?"

Rachel shakes her head. "Want me to run up and get her?"

"Oh, no, dear, Sarah can go," Judy immediately says.

"I really don't mind; I'm already up," Rachel says, and she's already moving before Judy can argue some more. She takes the stairs two at a time, and finds herself in front of Quinn's closed bedroom door before she knows it.

She hesitates, as if steeling herself, and then lifts her hand to knock.

"Just a second," Quinn calls out from behind the door, and then opens it a moment later. She's casually rubbing behind her lower hip with one hand, and Rachel catches sight of what looks like some kind of vial on the desk behind her.

"Oh, hey," Quinn says, shifting slightly to block Rachel's view into her bedroom.

Rachel blinks, flushing slightly. "Um, breakfast is ready," she says.

"Okay, I'll be right down," Quinn says, and then immediately closes the door again.

Rachel really isn't sure what to make of the entire exchange, and she tries her best not to think about it as she heads back down the stairs to find that the family has waited for her.

It's for her, she knows, because they start to eat the moment she's settled, even though Quinn hasn't yet arrived.

It's a good thing, too, because Quinn takes another ten minutes to show herself, and she looks dressed to go out, shoes already on and everything. She slides her bag onto the counter, and then moves to take her seat at the kitchen table beside her mother.

Rachel watches her carefully, quietly amused by the way Quinn studies the offerings in front of her, as if she's trying to figure out what she can realistically get away with eating without her mother making a comment about it.

Too late.

Judy hands her a plate. "Have some bacon," she says, knowing it's one of Quinn's weaknesses. If there's one way to get her daughter to eat, it's to give her bacon.

Quinn's smile is a happy one as she dishes several rashers for herself. She hesitates before adding some scrambled eggs, and some fried tomatoes. She bypasses the toast.

Russell eventually resumes the conversation. "So, what do you lovely ladies have planned for the day?"

Sarah goes first, just having swallowed a mouthful. "Well, Rachel and I going to practice our audition songs," she says.

"Audition?"

"We're joining the Glee Club," Sarah tells him.

He looks perplexed. "What is that?"

"It's show choir, Sir," Rachel answers. "We, um, sing and dance in a large group and compete with other schools."

He seems to mull that over. "That sounds... interesting."

Quinn lets out a laugh. "Say what you're really thinking, Dad," she says, shaking her head.

Russell clears his throat. "Well, I wouldn't say it would be for me, but I'm sure you two will have lots of fun."

Quinn shoots a pointed look at Sarah, which she happily ignores. They're going to have fun, all right, getting slushied every day and dropping so low on the social hierarchy that even Quinn won't be able to save them.

It's a painful truth, but Quinn isn't going to bring it up in front of her parents.

Russell turns to her. "And you? You look as if you're headed out?"

Quinn chews slowly, and then swallows. "I'm going to Santana's house," she says. "We have some work to do, and Brittany and I are going to work out some new choreography she wants to try out for next week's game."

Some of it is a lie, but her parents don't need to know that. She's going to Santana's house only much later, and this morning is going to be spent doing some other things she knows her father won't approve of.

It's nothing particularly scandalous, but he would probably baulk at the thought of his daughter taking a boxing class. She shudders to think what he would say if he knew she also plans to spend large portions of her day at the public library, researching things she probably shouldn't.

If he's going to keep her college fund from her, then she's going to have to figure out a way to pay her own way, if it comes down to it.

"Will you be gone all day?" Judy asks.

"Yes."

Rachel feels oddly disappointed by that, but she just focuses on her breakfast, forcing herself not to look at Quinn. This is really getting out of hand.

"Will you be home for dinner?" Judy asks.

"Probably not."

Judy hums. She's not usually against Quinn not being home for meals, but she prefers it, really, because it's the only way she can be certain Quinn is actually eating.

"Curfew is still eleven-thirty," Russell says.

"No, it's not," Quinn says, barely looking up from her own plate. "Mom changed weekend curfew to midnight."

Russell raises his eyebrows. "She did? When was this?"

Judy clears her throat. "Well, she's a Senior now, Russell," she says. "It seemed fitting."

"I see."

Rachel shifts awkwardly, and Sarah shoots her a wry grin.

"Mine is still ten-thirty, Dad," Sarah says, popping a strawberry in her mouth. "You'll have me for a whole extra ninety minutes before the rage monster gets back."

"Cute," Quinn deadpans.

Sarah blows her a kiss. "Oh, come on, we all know I'm their favourite," she teases, and then seems to miss that Quinn's eyes flash with hurt and her parents both look momentarily guilty.

But, Rachel notices, and her foot automatically shifts forward until it touches Quinn's extended one, the blonde looking up in surprise. Rachel smiles softly, and Quinn hesitates before returning it, hers a little more grateful.

Well.

Every family has its problems, Rachel accepts. At least theirs doesn't involve something her mother believes is unnatural.

She _thinks_ , at least, because Quinn does spend almost as much time looking at her as she looks at the blonde, and Rachel's not sure she's actually imagining it.


	3. Chapter 3

**III**

Quinn leaves immediately after she does the dishes, and Rachel and Sarah go into the study to mess around on the piano and Sarah's guitar.

"Do you think I could sing and play at the same time?" Sarah asks, strumming a few chords as Rachel picks out the sheet music she needs.

"Of course," Rachel says, smiling in reassurance. "Where did you learn to play, anyway?"

"Oh, I've been taking lessons since I was big enough to be able to hold one," she answers casually. "It's probably the only musical thing about me, really."

"I don't believe that."

Sarah laughs. "It really is," she says. "One time, Puck was over, and he and Quinn tried to see if I could cut it as part of their makeshift band... and I really couldn't."

Rachel's brow furrows. "You've mentioned this, uh, Puck before, if I recall," she starts. "Who is that?"

"Oh, he's Quinn's boyfriend."

Rachel feels the bottom drop out from her stomach at the sound of that. Quinn has a boyfriend? Why didn't Quinn tell her?

 _Well, why would she, Rachel? You're nobody_.

Quinn has a boyfriend. That's - that's-

"I think."

Rachel snaps her eyes up. "What?"

"I mean, I think they're dating," Sarah says, frowning. "They were, when he was last here. My parents don't know about him. He's not really... the type of boy my parents would typically approve of."

"Oh?"

Sarah winces. "I don't mean it in a bad way," she says. "He's nice enough, but he isn't really going to go places." She cringes at her own words. "God, that sounds even worse." She shakes her head. "He's just from the wrong side of the tracks, as it were."

Rachel just nods, trying to follow, even if her heart hurts a little at the truth that Quinn is taken. It's ridiculous and irrational, but she feels a little betrayed.

God, she's pathetic.

"Plus, he's Jewish."

"Oh?"

Sarah lets out an amused breath. "My dad would blow his top if he ever found out she was with him. Good Christian girls are supposed to date good Christian boys, which I think is really an oxymoron."

Rachel can't bring herself to look at Sarah, because she's learning things she really wishes she weren't. She audibly swallows. "What about you?" she asks.

"What about me?"

"Are you going to date a... good Christian boy?"

"Not if I can help it," Sarah dismisses. "Relationships just seem like more trouble than they're worth, don't you think?"

Rachel can at least agree with that. Her last relationship caused the mother of all shitstorms, which she would happily go without for the rest of her life.

"Yeah," Rachel quietly agrees, and that's the end of the talk of relationships. She obviously has a lot to think about, and she's starting to realise that maybe Sarah isn't going to be the one to know all of her.

She really wishes it didn't hurt as much as it does.

* * *

"Nice form."

Quinn looks over her shoulder at a smirking Noah Puckerman. "I learn from the best," she says. "You want to spar?"

"Can't," he says. "Mom wants me home for something or the other."

Quinn turns her body to face him, taking in the hard muscle of the boy in front of her. He's intimidating at face value, but he's really a complete softie. "Everything okay?" she asks, a little concerned.

"Should be."

"You ever need anything, you know - "

"I know, babe."

She rolls her eyes. "I hate it when you call me that," she says, punching his shoulder as hard as she can.

He lets out a laugh as he rubs at the trauma sight. "I know," he says. "That's why I do it."

"You're an idiot."

"I'm going to hug you if you keep insulting me."

"Come near me with all that man-sweat, and I'm going to scream bloody murder," she says, raising her arms, fists clenched.

"Nobody will hear you in here," Puck says, shaking his head.

Quinn glances around at the somewhat full boxing gym. It's predominantly men, but there are a few women. Quinn's noticed.

Puck flicks her ear. "I gotta go, anyway," he says. "You headed to San's after this?"

She nods. "Later, though," she tells him. "See you there?"

"I'll bring the wine coolers."

She chuckles. "You're an asshole."

"And, yet, you still love me."

Quinn's features soften. "I do," she says, because she does. Maybe not in the way he needs her to, but she does love him. She kisses his cheek, and then exaggerates wiping her lips.

"And you say I'm the idiot."

"Get out of here," she says, shoving him away. "Mommy's calling."

Puck sends her a saucy wink, and then spins and walks away.

Quinn watches him go until he disappears, wondering how she got so lucky to end up with people in her corner the way Puck is. It makes her think she might be brave enough to believe she could go her own way when things inevitably hit the fan with her college choices.

And… with other things.

He and Santana and Brittany know what it's like for her - sort of, because nobody really knows about that other thing that may or may not be an actual worry at this point in her life - and they're sympathetic to her... plight.

It's ridiculous.

Everything is just ridiculous.

She really needs to get out of this backwards town.

* * *

It's exactly two days after Rachel and Sarah become just two of the six official members of the New Directions that Rachel experiences her first slushy facial.

It comes as such a shock, the cold forcing a surprised gasp from her. Her eyes are tightly shut, but she can hear people laughing and someone says, "Welcome, Loser."

Rachel forces herself to breathe through her nose, and she carefully wipes at her eyes. It's humiliating, yes, but it's something else, as well. Degrading.

It's painful.

It hurts in so many ways; she can't even explain it.

"Careful," a voice says, and then there's a gentle hand on her back. "Get your emergency kit," the same voice says to someone else, and then Rachel is being led somewhere.

She's too embarrassed to open her eyes when someone starts wiping at the skin of her face with a damp cloth once they've walked through some kind of door and the world has grown quiet. Her heart is beating uncontrollably, and she wishes none of this was happening.

"You can open your eyes now," the voice says, and Rachel does as instructed, her vision clearing to reveal Kurt, Mercedes and Tina, all looking nervous.

"Is it your first one?" Mercedes asks.

Rachel nods.

"Oh, Honey," Kurt says. "The first one is always the hardest, but you'll be better prepared next time."

"Next time?"

"Believe me, this isn't the last time it'll happen to you," Kurt informs her.

Rachel has the sudden urge to go and find her mother. She'll be able to take care of this, surely. People shouldn't be able to get away with this.

"Tina has a shirt you can wear," Kurt says. "It'll probably be a good idea to prepare a slushy kit for this such an occasion. I keep two sets of extra clothes, pants included, because you can't be too careful. Plastic bags, towels, shampoo and conditioner, lotion, all the necessities."

"This is barbaric," Rachel mutters. "Who even came up with this?"

"N-nobody knows," Tina says. "It w-was already here w-when we a-arrived."

Rachel frowns. Maybe she's better off asking Quinn. She's been here longer.

"All I know is it's one of Santana Lopez's favourite methods of torture," Mercedes says, and she sounds bitter about it. "She orders them on just about everyone all the time."

Rachel's face falls slightly, because how can Quinn let that happen?

"Brittany a-and Q-Quinn try to get her to s-stop," Tina points out, and Rachel wants to ask more questions. She needs to know. Maybe - maybe if Quinn is really this horrible person who lets this kind of thing happen; then her crush will disappear. Right now, she'll do anything to make it disappear. Maybe, if she can get Quinn to throw one at her, or laugh in her face, she'll get the disastrous thing to fade away.

Maybe.

There would be something seriously wrong with her if it didn't, and there's already enough wrong with her, surely.

* * *

Later, in class, Sarah takes one look at her and asks, "Well, who popped your cherry then?"

Rachel cringes at her wording. "It was grape, actually."

Sarah offers her a sympathetic smile. "Sorry," she says. "Was it horrible?"

"Yes."

Sarah sighs. "Quinn tried to warn me, you know?" she says softly. "I didn't listen."

"She knew this would happen?"

Sarah nods. "She tries to keep a handle on it, but she can't be everywhere all the time, and Santana usually just does whatever she wants when Quinn isn't around. She claims somebody has to maintain order in the school, and it's the one thing the two of them constantly fight about." She shrugs. "It happened to me once, freshman year, before anyone knew I was Sarah _Fabray_ , and Quinn flipped her shit. Nobody's touched me since."

Rachel can understand that.

"That same protection doesn't really apply to my friends, I'm afraid," Sarah says. "It might not extend to me anymore, now that I'm in Glee, but I do think people are suitably afraid of Quinn not to do it."

"People are actually afraid of her?"

Sarah laughs. "You've seen mostly the Home-Quinn, Rachel," she says. "When Quinn wants to be, she can be terrifying. They don't call her the Head Bitch just to be cute. Sometimes, even Santana pales in comparison."

Rachel's mouth drops open. "Impossible."

"I'm not even kidding," Sarah says. "Santana, at least, doesn't hide it. She's in your face, threatening and all that, but Quinn is calm when she cuts, slicing with words and those eyes. You've seen her eyes, right?"

Of course, Rachel's seen her eyes. She's almost lost herself in them a handful of times, which are words she definitely doesn't say. She does say, "yeah," and then lets out a small sigh of relief when their teacher finally starts the lesson.

She needs a distraction, which works right until the moment she runs into Quinn in the bathroom during lunch, and the girl does more than just smile politely.

"They slushied you," Quinn observes, and Rachel is grateful they're the only ones in the bathroom at the moment.

"They did," Rachel confirms softly.

Quinn sighs. "I'm sorry."

"Do you normally apologise to everyone who gets slushied?"

"No."

Rachel breathes out slowly. "Oh."

Quinn tilts her head to the side. "I'm just as surprised as you are," she says.

"Is it because I'm Sarah's friend?"

Quinn winces slightly. "Sure," she allows. "We'll go with that."

It helps, to hear Quinn say that, but Rachel still gets the feeling neither of them actually believes it.

* * *

The next time Rachel is practically forced into spending the night at the Fabray home, it's Halloween weekend.

Technically, the Fabray family doesn't celebrate what they believe is a night with Satanic qualities, but that doesn't mean Judy doesn't hand out candy to children who happen to ring the doorbell.

"Are we getting dressed up?" Rachel asks as she exchanges her books at her locker. Sarah is casually leaning against the lockers beside hers, looking slightly ruffled about something. "I guess we can."

Rachel frowns. "What's wrong with you?"

"Did you see the message Kurt sent to the group?"

"I did," Rachel says.

"Would you want to go over his house instead?"

"Umm."

"I mean, he's throwing an actual Glee Halloween party," Sarah says. "All our Glee friends are going to be there."

"Do you want to go?"

"We'd probably be the only losers stuck at home if we don't," she says. "At least, that's what Santana says."

Rachel scowls at the mention of the Latina's name. Honestly, she doesn't see how someone as nice as Quinn can be friends with Satan herself.

Well.

Now that she's actually looking, Rachel has seen Quinn be not so nice, but that's really to people who seem to deserve it. Like that Kilburn guy who tripped Tracey Elkhart when she was carrying her Science project and that girl Jasmine Forrester who slushied Margaret Potter while she was on crutches.

Rachel gets what Sarah was talking about now, though. Quinn can be terrifying when she's angry, her entire body alight with her rage as she stamps her authority over this school.

It's wildly distracting, and Rachel has called her sexy far too many times in her head for this to be nothing to be worried about. It's one thing to be attracted to someone, to lust after them, as it were, but what's happening with Rachel is even more dangerous.

She's actually falling for a girl who is the epitome of untouchable in every way.

"I still can't tell if you want to go or not," Rachel says, trying to get a hold of herself.

"I do," Sarah says; "I just don't know if my father will let me."

"Why not?" Rachel asks. "We'd go only until your curfew, if that's the case. It shouldn't be a problem, should it?"

Sarah straightens. "Maybe I can get away with not telling him where we're going," she muses.

"I'm confused."

Sarah sighs. "He's, uh, he's heard rumours... about... Kurt," she eventually confesses, her voice low. "He knows him as that Hummel boy who dresses like a, uh, fairy." She shakes her head. "It's disgusting."

Rachel sucks in a breath. No. No no no. "What is?"

"That my dad would judge a person before he even knows them," Sarah says, and Rachel breathes a sigh of relief. "Look, I want to go. Do you? We can ask Quinn to drop us off when she's heading out, and then, uh, she can pick us up again?"

"Kurt said we could sleep over," Rachel points out.

"Well, I don't know how to swing that without telling my parents exactly to whose house we're going."

Rachel nods.

"Unless we say we're sleeping at _your_ house," Sarah offers, her eyes lighting up slightly. "I mean, I doubt my parents will want to talk to yours about it."

Rachel raises her eyebrows. "You want to lie?"

"Carefully omit?"

"Sarah."

"What do you tell your parents, anyway?" Sarah asks. "Do you have a curfew?"

Rachel looks into her locker. "Sort of," she says. "As long as I text every few hours, my mother doesn't worry too much. How much trouble can one person really get into in a town like Lima?"

"Don't knock it," Sarah says. "This place has seen scandals."

Rachel laughs. "Oh, I'm sure," she says. "Look, if you want to tell your parents we're staying at my house, we can do that. My mother will accept I'm staying at yours, so we don't have to change that story, and then we can just sleep over at Kurt's with the rest of the Club."

"Sounds like a plan."

"Awesome."

"I have Calculus next."

"World History."

They groan in unison.

"Who invented school?" Sarah asks, turning to go. "See you later."

"Later," Rachel calls out, and then sighs.

She both appreciates and hates that she's learning so much about the Fabray family. If she wasn't sure before, she's certain that Russell Fabray is wildly homophobic. Judy probably is, too. Sarah doesn't seem to have that much of a problem with it, but that could change if she realises her best friend is totally gay for her sister.

And, Quinn, well, Rachel really doesn't know what to make of Quinn.

The way things are going, it's doubtful she ever will.

* * *

"No."

Sarah skips into Quinn's room, hesitantly followed by Rachel. "Please."

Quinn glances over her shoulder, suddenly self-conscious about the state of her room. She was not expecting Rachel to be in here today, or any day, really.

Her room is a mess. There are clothes strewn on her bed from where she's been searching for something to wear tonight.

Her vanity is also a mess from her lack of care regarding her makeup products.

Quinn clears her throat. "What makes you think I'm even going out?" she asks.

Sarah scoffs, throwing herself onto Quinn's bed, not caring about the clothes she's creasing. "Why are you being difficult?"

"Because I'm saying no, and you're not hearing me," Quinn says, nervously glancing at Rachel, who is pretending not to be studying her room. It's almost amusing to Quinn, and she's deeply curious to know what the girl thinks.

Quinn's bedroom is her creative space. She has posters and pieces of art - both her own and not - on all the walls, and she has to force herself not to ask Rachel what she thinks.

"But, why?" Sarah whines.

"Because I said so," Quinn says. "When I was your age, I didn't have an older sister to drive me around, and I made do."

"But, what's the point of having a sister if you aren't going to be useful?"

Quinn clenches her jaw, saying nothing, as she keeps her focus on her reflection in her mirror. "I said no, Sarah," she says. "I'm allowed to say no. I'm not obligated to say yes every time you ask."

"But, this is important," Sarah argues, sitting up. "Mom can't drop us off."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want her to know where we're going," Sarah confesses.

That definitely gets Quinn's attention, and she turns around. "And, where exactly are you going?"

"Kurt's house."

"Who?"

"Kurt Hummel."

Quinn freezes, recognising the name and the boy behind it. "Oh."

Rachel's eyes are suddenly on her, and Quinn feels exposed. She keeps her own eyes on Sarah, and there's a brief look exchanged.

"Puck is supposed to pick me up," Quinn tells her; "that's why I can't drop you off."

Rachel's fists clench at the mention of Puck's name, and her face falls, because there was a part of her hoping none of it was true; that this Puck person wasn't this actual part of Quinn's life.

Sarah groans. "Can't he pick you up from Kurt's house?" she suggests.

"And then what?"

"And then he can drop you back off there tomorrow, and we can all come home together," Sarah offers, smiling hopefully. "Please, Quinn."

Quinn looks at Rachel. "Am I to assume you're not being coerced into this little scheme?"

"I'm participating wholeheartedly," Rachel answers, smiling knowingly. "There's no coercion here."

"Bribery?"

"Nope."

"Is she threatening you?" Quinn asks. "You can tell me."

Rachel giggles softly. "She's not threatening me, no."

"Blink twice if you're too afraid to tell me the truth."

Rachel laughs properly now, her eyes shining with mirth and, dare she say, giddiness.

She's... giddy.

What is wrong with her?

Quinn sighs, her eyes on Sarah. "Fine," she says. "We'll go through with this ridiculous plot of yours but, if you're caught in this lie, you're taking the rapp for it. I'm not taking the fall, are we clear?"

"Crystal."

"Now, get out of here," she says, shooing them. "I need to get ready."

Sarah grumbles and groans as she gets to her feet and then stomps out of the room, her mind already mentally packing her bag.

Rachel lingers a while, and Quinn looks at her expectantly. "I like your room," Rachel eventually says, her voice low. "It's... not what I was expecting."

Quinn arches an eyebrow. "Do I even want to know what you _were_ expecting?"

Rachel steps further into the room, taking in the dark colours. The walls, themselves, beneath all the art, are a pale beige colour, but Quinn's accents are dark: navies and browns. Her furniture is also dark wood, and there's something so mature about the entire setup.

Quinn has quite a collection of books on her shelves, and Rachel makes a mental note to return at some point to study them more closely. What does surprise her is the fact that Quinn has an actual bar fridge in her bedroom, on top of which rests her record player.

"Do you do a lot of entertaining?" Rachel asks, gesturing to the fridge.

"Hmm?"

Rachel looks at her. She wants to ask so many questions. She just wants to know this girl in all the ways, and she doesn't know how to curb that desire. She's literally standing in Quinn's bedroom, and Quinn isn't asking her to leave.

"Rachel," Quinn says, and neither of them knows what she's trying to get across, but it's the moment Rachel realises she's walked even further into the room without her knowledge, her feet just propelling her forward. She's almost standing right in front of Quinn at this point, and Quinn's eyes are slightly wide at her proximity.

She needs to retreat.

She needs to turn around and walk right out of here before she gives herself away.

She really needs to get a handle of herself before she does something she won't be able to take back.

Quinn searches her face for something. "Did - did you need something?"

Rachel isn't sure what to say at this point, because she's not really covering herself in glory. She may as well hand Quinn a note asking if she'd like to go steady with the way she's being very not subtle.

Quinn clears her throat. "And, no," she says. "I don't really do a lot of entertaining. My parents aren't really fans of my friends."

"Why not?"

"They're racists."

Rachel blinks. "Oh." She meets Quinn's gaze. "But, I'm here?"

"You're nice," she says. "And, plus, I think you've noticed Sarah isn't exactly held to the same standards I am."

That's an understatement if ever Rachel has heard one.

Quinn sighs. "Still, I would be remiss not to warn you both that my father would probably blow a gasket if he knew what you two have planned."

"So would my mother."

"Oh," Quinn sounds. "She's not, uh..."

"What?"

Quinn doesn't want to mention that her romantic heart might have entertained the idea that, if they were ever to do this ridiculous thing, they might actually have one parent in their corner.

But, no.

Rachel seems to pick up on what she's saying, though. "She - she doesn't particularly like people like Kurt," she says. "Thinks they're... unnatural."

Quinn audibly swallows. "Do - do you agree with her?"

Rachel opens her mouth to reply, but Sarah shouts for Rachel from her own room, and both girls jump in place. Quinn takes a sudden step back, feeling as if she's doing something wrong, and Rachel stares down at her hands.

Jesus, what are they doing?

Rachel awkwardly points towards the door with her thumb. "I should, uh, go see what she wants."

"Yeah," Quinn breathes. "I need to finish getting ready."

"What are you dressing up as?"

Quinn smiles this secret smile that makes the hairs on Rachel's entire body stand on end. "It's a surprise."

* * *

A 'surprise' turns out to be Quinn looking as normal as ever when they finally do end up leaving. She has a bag, though, and she explains to Sarah that she'll change at Hummel's house. This way, she doesn't have to duck and dive to get out of the Fabray house unseen, and Puck doesn't have to park around the corner.

Rachel has never met this Puck, but she's pretty sure she already hates him.

When they get to Kurt's house, Quinn pulls up to the curb with all the grace with which she carries herself, and Rachel finds it all slightly irritating that this stranger of a girl gets to do this to her.

As expected, Quinn receives wide-eyed stares when she gets out of the car as well and follows them into the house, and Rachel is very amused by it all. If she hadn't spent the last few hours sort of in Quinn's presence, she would probably be right alongside them, staring in awe at the magnificent creature that is Quinn Fabray.

As it is, though, Kurt's mouth is hanging open, Mercedes looks as if she's seen a ghost, Tina is sputtering and Artie's head is shaking almost without his consent.

It gets worse when Quinn looks directly at Kurt and asks, "You got a bathroom, Hummel?"

Kurt points down a corridor behind him, and Quinn immediately moves past him, disappearing from sight with her bag in tow. He immediately looks at Sarah, incredulous. "That's Quinn Fabray," he says. "Quinn Fabray is currently in my house."

"Uh, so is Sarah Fabray," Sarah grumbles.

"Yeah, yeah," Kurt says; "but you're not _Quinn_ Fabray. We'll gush about you later, I promise."

Rachel just laughs as she drops her bag onto the floor by the closest armchair. She completely understands their awe-struck expressions, because it's Quinn, and Quinn is something else. It's really the number one problem with her.

Followed by an entire list of others.

Nobody can seem to settle, with the knowledge Quinn is in the house, but Kurt manages to get them to spread out in the living room, snacks on the coffee table and drinks already prepared.

They plan on watching some scary movies, pigging out, maybe stepping out to see all the young kids in their costumes, and then possibly telling scary stories.

But that'll all start once Quinn is gone, because they don't want to come across as lame.

Which they probably are, even though Rachel doesn't care.

Silence falls again when Quinn comes back out, looking decidedly different to the way she did when she went into the bathroom.

She looks... hot.

Sexy.

She looks stunning.

Quinn's changed into her outfit for the Halloween party she's attending. She's wearing black, biker boots with silver buckles that click as she walks. Her black jeans are ripped enough to reveal delicious pale skin, and her white tank-top is smudged with what looks like grease.

But, God, it's the leather jacket that gets Rachel hot all over, silver zips along the forearms. She barely even notices how just-fucked Quinn's hair looks, or that there are pink highlights in it, because her eyes are focused on the chain around Quinn's neck. She's seen it before, obviously, but the silver cross seems to stand out in contrast to the outfit Quinn is wearing.

She's also wearing leather gloves with the tips cut off, and she looks amazing. Beyond amazing. Her makeup is just the perfect amount of smokey, dark and intriguing, and Rachel can't stop staring at her.

"Whoa," Sarah says for all of them. "Quinn?"

Quinn runs a hand through her hair, messing it up further. "What?"

"You look awesome."

Quinn laughs softly. "Thanks, baby sister." She glances at Kurt. "Got any booze here?"

He looks stumped.

"A party without alcohol, huh?" She cocks her head. "Cute."

Before anyone can say anything, they hear a certain roar that has them all jumping in their seats.

Quinn gets moving. "Well, that's my ride," she says, grabbing her bag and heading to the front door. "Enjoy your night, Kids. See you tomorrow."

They all follow behind her, desperate to see her off, and Rachel exits the house behind Kurt just in time to see Quinn drop her bag in the trunk of her car and a boy on a motorcycle pull up to the curve. He revs once, and then shifts into Park, pulling off his helmet as Quinn practically struts towards him.

The boy, who looks more like a man, whistles in appreciation as he looks Quinn up and down. "Damn, babe," he says; "you look smokin' hot."

Quinn lets out this laugh that makes Rachel burn with jealousy. She wants to be able to look at Quinn like that and compliment her however she likes and have Quinn laugh like that.

"Thank you, hot stuff," Quinn says, skipping the last few steps to get to him and laying a sloppy kiss on the top of his head.

Puck wraps an arm around her waist and brings her close. He whispers something Rachel doesn't hear, which is expected, because her heart is pounding so loudly that she doubts she would hear anything anyone said to her, even if they were right in front of her face.

Quinn laughs again, and then expertly hops onto the motorcycle behind Puck, her body immediately pressing against his. She looks back at the people gathered on the front lawn and playfully salutes before she slips on her own helmet.

Can't be too safe.

And, then, just like that, they're tearing down the street, with Quinn's delighted laughter clear to hear over the roar of the engine.

They've disappeared completely when someone finally speaks.

"Well, that just happened," Artie says.

Kurt nods. "Someone pinch me."

Sarah does, much to his chagrin.

* * *

Quinn gets drunk.

It happens over several hours, with Puck on hand to hand her cup after cup, and the heady atmosphere and booming music make her want it. Just for a little while. Just to forget her life for a night.

She feels on top the world, untouchable and dangerous.

Boys so obviously want her, and the girls do, too.

But, there's one person on her mind who really shouldn't be, so she gets drunk with the intention of forgetting all about chestnut eyes and a young - _so, so young_ \- face.

It works for a little while.

Sort of.

She skips out on any food, which would be a good idea for anyone other than Quinn Fabray, and she feels the effects of it despite her inebriation. Over the years, she's learned to listen to her body and, when Quinn starts to feel it, she knows she needs to get out of here.

They're at some college party, she, Puck, Santana and Brittany, and she goes in search of Puck, because he's the only one she can realistically get to stop having sex if he's actually engaged in such an activity. She's tried with Santana and Brittany before, and she's never making that mistake again.

She's relieved to find Puck's not actually having sex, but he is making out with a girl against a wall, and she has to tug on his arm to get him to stop. He jerks back, and the girl lets out a whine.

Just from the look on Quinn's face, he knows there's something wrong, which is confirmed when Quinn says, "I need to go."

Puck is about to ask what's actually wrong when the girl says, "Get lost, Blondie; he's mine."

Quinn lets out a laugh, and then very purposefully tugs on Puck's shirt and kisses his mouth, smirking when the boy kisses back. She's grinning madly when she pulls back and looks at the girl. "He's always going to be mine," she says, which is a truth they've all come to accept.

Puck steps closer to Quinn, blatantly ignoring the strange girl. "What's wrong?"

"I left my, uh, Vibranium in my car," she says; "and I'm going down." She shakes her head, trying to clear it. "How drunk are you?"

"Not as drunk as you, that's for sure."

"Drive me?"

He slips an arm around her waist, and then leads her away. He knows the way Quinn acts when she's drunk, and he knows the way she is when she needs her... Vibranium.

Quinn started calling it her special juice first, and then graduated to Vibranium when the Avengers movies started coming out. He thinks it's quite cute.

That part, at least, but definitely not this.

This part scares him, if he's being honest, and he tends to tell the truth when he's had a few drinks.

* * *

Rachel isn't yet asleep, which is why she hears it.

The roar that's more of a purr. She recognises it, which is the reason she gets up from where she's supposed to be sleeping on the floor of the Hummels' living room, and moves towards the front windows to look out onto the street.

It's almost two o'clock in the morning, and the streets should be quiet, but they're not.

Her heart skips several beats when she sees Puck's motorcycle pull up, and Quinn stumbles off the back. Rachel suspects she's drunk, but there looks to be something else wrong. She's tempted to go outside, but she stays put.

Puck follows Quinn towards her car, and Rachel sincerely hopes they're not about to do what two teenagers would do in the back of a dark car in the middle of the night.

The streetlights are present enough that Rachel can see Quinn's face, which is looking paler than normal. She fumbles with her keys, and then gets her trunk open, sitting immediately on the edge of the back.

Rachel sees her rub at her temple, and then she says something to Puck, who starts searching through Quinn's bag for something.

Rachel sucks in a breath when Puck pulls out small black pouch and a clear packet with a vial of something and several injections.

Oh.

Rachel isn't sure what to feel as she sees Quinn lean over and take the pouch from Puck, and then fiddle with it. Whatever she's doing is hidden within the trunk, but Rachel sees the reaction.

Puck practically jumps, his hand coming to steady Quinn at her shoulder, and Quinn shakes her head, looking paler than ever.

Rachel watches with wide eyes as Quinn instructs Puck what to do with the injection, dipping the needle into the vial and pulling back on the plunger. When it's ready, free of air bubbles, Quinn rises to her feet with Puck's help and shifts her jeans down to reveal perfect, pale skin.

Rachel feels all sorts of conflicting feelings as she watches as Quinn injects herself with some clear liquid, and then seems to relax visibly, some colour seeping back into her skin.

Rachel doesn't want to think it's some kind of drug, but what else can it be?

God, does Quinn Fabray take drugs?

For some reason, it's not particularly surprising, and she can see it happening. It helps make her less attractive to Rachel, and now she doesn't know what she's supposed to do with this information. Does Sarah know? How bad is it? Is Puck her supplier? Is she addicted? How long has this been going on?

Rachel's heart twists when Quinn draws Puck into a tight hug that seems to last forever. They exchange a few words, and then they clear up their mess, shut the trunk, and then get on their way again.

If Rachel's heart wasn't pounding so fiercely, she's sure she would believe she imagined the entire thing.

She didn't.

She just doesn't know what she's supposed to do about what she's seen.

* * *

Quinn gets the immediate and surprising impression she's somehow done something to insult Rachel the next day, when they're on their way home from Kurt's house.

The girl barely greets her, and she looks at her only twice when Quinn takes the two of them for pancakes at Betty's Diner.

Well.

"What was the party like?" Sarah asks, oblivious to the odd tension in the car between her sister and her best friend.

"It was a party," Quinn says. "Nothing fancy."

"Were you with Puck the entire time?"

Quinn glances at her. "Uh, no," she says. "Puck met this girl, and he disappeared around three o'clock, I think."

Rachel's eyes widen at the sound of that. "You're not together?" her mouth asks before she can stop herself.

Quinn looks at her in the rearview mirror. "No, we're not," she says. "Who ever gave you that idea?"

Rachel glances at Sarah, who's determinedly not looking at either of them.

Quinn rolls her eyes. "Puck's just my friend," she says. She pauses. "Whom I sometimes kiss, I guess, but we're not together. At all."

Rachel isn't sure how to feel about that, and she doesn't know what questions she could even ask at this point.

Sarah clears her throat. "But, if you're not dating him, then - " she stops suddenly. "I just - I don't understand."

"Boys and girls can be friends, Sarah," Quinn says patiently.

"He looks at you like he wants to be more than that," Sarah points out.

Quinn sighs. She's noticed. She's also made it very clear to him they can never be more than friends (with a handful of benefits), but she doesn't think it's really sunk in for Puck. The problem, she thinks, is that she's been unable to give him a definitive reason why.

She can't bring herself to accept the actual reason herself, so she's definitely not going to be able to voice it. Least of all to Noah Puckerman.

"Quinn?" Sarah questions.

"He's just my friend, Sarah," Quinn says. "I love him, but that's all we're going to be."

"Is it because of Biff?"

Quinn actually laughs. "Please don't even mention that idiot," she says. "He's literally the most hopeless person I've ever met. Those good looks are just wasted on such a boring personality."

Sarah snorts. "He is kind of bland, isn't he?"

"He's really perfect for his parents to mould, though."

"Nothing like you and me, huh?"

Quinn glances over at Sarah, smiling softly. "Nope," she agrees. "We're special."

* * *

Rachel lasts exactly fourteen minutes of being alone in the guest room of the Fabray house before she loses it.

When they arrived, Judy wanted to hear all about Sarah's sleepover at Rachel's house, and the two of them managed to make up enough to get by, while Quinn disappeared upstairs.

Now, though, Sarah's in the shower, and Rachel can't seem to sit still. She's never been one just to let things rest, which is the reason she exits the room and marches across the corridor to Quinn's room, knocking once.

"Come in," Quinn says from behind the closed door, and Rachel knows she can turn around. She _should_ turn around. Right now. She needs to abandon this entire thing before she does irreparable damage to the little relationship she's managed to cultivate with Quinn.

Still, her hand lifts, and she opens the door.

If Quinn is surprised to see her, it shows in her slightly wider eyes and the way she shifts in position.

Rachel moves towards her, suddenly determined to get to the bottom of this all.

"Are you on drugs?" Rachel practically blurts out, her hands on her hips as she stands over where Quinn is lying on her bed and reading up on the French Revolution.

"Excuse me?"

"Drugs, Quinn," Rachel says. "Are you taking them?"

Quinn sits up, looking confused. "Am I on drugs?" she echoes. "Why on earth would you even be asking me something as idiotic as that?"

"You inject yourself. I've seen you."

Quinn's facial expression shifts immediately, hardening before Rachel can even blink. In a flash, she's up on her feet, and her face is right in front of Rachel. "So, what?" she questions, almost growling. "You see me inject myself, and you automatically think I'm some kind of junkie, huh?" Her eyes narrow. "Who have you told?"

This is the moment Rachel truly gets it.

She gets what Sarah was saying about Quinn being scarier than Santana.

Jesus.

"Nobody," Rachel manages to say, her voice little more than a whisper. "I swear."

Quinn doesn't let up. "Don't you dare mention this to anyone," she says, and she sounds so very dangerous. "If I so much as get a sniff of anyone talking about it, I will end you and whatever loser reputation you think you have, do I make myself clear?"

"Y-yes."

Quinn calms slightly, leaning back. "I'm not on drugs," she says, sounding both disgusted and disappointed. "Why would that be the first thing you even think? Jesus." She shakes her head. "If you've seen me inject myself, you must know there are no veins involved, so what does that tell you, huh?" She steps back, and Rachel frowns.

Wait.

What?

"Get out," Quinn says, already turning away, dismissing her. "Just, get the fuck out of my room."

Rachel opens her mouth to say something, but then immediately closes it. She isn't even sure what to say at this point.

So, she gets out.

* * *

 _There are no veins involved_.

They're the words that plague Rachel throughout the rest of the morning and afternoon, and she's suitably distracted by the time she goes home.

Enough that her mother notices.

"Sweetheart, is everything okay?" Shelby asks the question even though she's not expecting any substantial response. Rachel doesn't talk to her. At all. She doesn't and she hasn't. Not for a long time, anyway.

"What?" Rachel asks, distracted as she stares out the window of the car.

"I asked if everything is okay," Shelby says. "You seem pensive. Did something happen?"

Rachel sighs. "Mom, what do you do when you're so sure of something, confront someone about it, and then figure out that you probably jumped to conclusions?"

It's so much more than Shelby expects, and she's momentarily caught off guard. "I - I'm not sure I'm following, Sweetheart."

Rachel sighs. She doesn't know how to explain herself without actually explaining the entire situation. "Have you ever seen something, taken it the wrong way, and then confronted someone about said thing you saw that was actually wrong?"

Shelby seems to consider this. "Well, Rachel, the only thing that seems to fit that description is your father... but I ended up being correct in my conclusions in the end."

Rachel winces, definitely not wanting to get into that entire shit show. She likes to think she's far too young for all of that, but she's bound to face her own crisis if Quinn keeps giving off all these mixed signals.

Would it be easier just to ask Quinn if she could possibly be interested in her? Wouldn't that just be leaving her open to ridicule and... all those other awful things? It could get back to her mother, and then what? Would they move again? Would her brothers continue to hate her? Would her mother?

Shelby frowns. "And, I suppose, about you, as well."

Rachel clenches her jaw.

"But, that's not what we're talking about, right?" Shelby says. "I'm letting you have some freedom here, because I realise I was too controlling the last few weeks we were in New York, but I sincerely hope you haven't been abusing my trust."

Rachel licks her lips. "I haven't, Mom," she says, and that's the last time she's going to try to have an actual conversation with the woman. What's the point, anyway, when everything just comes back to... that?

"We should have Sarah over for dinner one of these nights," Shelby muses, and Rachel would rather pull out her own nails than ever have that happen. She actually likes Sarah, and she really doesn't need her deranged family ruining the first female friendship she's had where she's not even remotely confused about her attraction and potential feelings.

No, that's reserved for Quinn, who she's convinced won't want to speak to her ever again.

Well.

The rest of the trip is made in silence, and Rachel reasons she's going to have to resort to _Google_ to get to the bottom of her Quinn situation. Why _else_ would Quinn be injecting herself?

* * *

Rachel, potentially, feels like the biggest idiot on the planet when she pulls up the results of her search and realises that... Quinn must be sick.

Or vitamin-deficient or something.

Just, not on drugs.

Rachel could spend hours reading up on all the plausible reasons, but she's done speculating, and she already feels horrible enough without trying to diagnose Quinn on top of everything else.

What she does know is she owes Quinn an apology, and she'll just have to suffer not knowing the true reason behind Quinn's injections for all of eternity.

Unless, of course, the blonde feels so inclined to tell her.

Which, if she's being realistic, is unlikely.

* * *

"What on earth are you doing, Berry?"

Despite her earlier determination, Rachel falters at the tone of Quinn's voice and the cold of her glare. She really should have given this more thought. It's entirely too dangerous to approach Quinn like this - at school, no less - and her heart is beating way too fast.

"I - I want to apologise," Rachel manages to get out.

Quinn's eyes narrow. "For what, exactly?"

"Uh, jumping to conclusions," Rachel says. "I - I really am sorry. I just - well, I don't really know what I was thinking." She sighs. "I think I was really just looking for something to make me not like you."

Quinn looks suitably thrown by that. "What?"

Rachel shakes her head. "Never mind," she says, because she really shouldn't be bringing up any of that. "I'm sorry, and I promise I'll never tell anyone what I saw."

Quinn eyes her for the longest time, and it's unnerving. "You really don't know anything, do you?"

Rachel isn't sure how to respond, so she doesn't.

"You should get to class, Berry," she says. "Don't want to be late."

"No, I don't."

Quinn licks her lips. "I'm assuming you're coming over for Sarah's birthday dinner this weekend, right?"

"Wouldn't miss it."

"She'd never let you."

"That's true."

Quinn regards her curiously, unsure what she's feeling in this moment. She told herself she would need to distance herself from the girl, set some boundaries or something, but that all just escapes her in the moment. "Maybe we can talk then," she finds herself saying.

Rachel visibly perks up, but she clamps down her obvious excitement. "Okay."

"Okay," Quinn confirms, blatantly ignoring the little voice in her head telling her she really shouldn't be encouraging any of this.

* * *

Rachel doesn't know what it is, but the days leading up to Sarah's birthday dinner make her anxious. It's as if she and Quinn have made some kind of silent agreement that Quinn is going to tell her the real reason behind the injections, and Rachel isn't sure she actually wants to know. She doesn't want Quinn to become any more real to her, but she feels her resistance crumbling.

She wants to know Quinn.

She wants to know everything she can about her, and the fact she isn't even concerned about what her mother would think _should_ worry her, but it doesn't. They moved all the way to the middle of nowhere because Rachel deigned to like _girls_ , and Shelby thought getting out of the city would cure her of her inclinations.

Short of sending Rachel away to some corrective camp, this is the next best option. It would be impossible for her to continue with her… sin in a town that is so run by the Bible, surely.

Well.

Rachel has always been an over-achiever, and she's managed to find the one girl who has the potential to ruin everything. She arrived in Lima, believing she could acquiesce to her mother's silent pleas not to make the same mistakes. She really thought she could do it, because it was unlikely she would find a girl for whom she would even want to throw it all away.

Then, in stepped Quinn Fabray, who, for all intents and purposes, should _not_ be at all interested in anything to do with Rachel, but she is. It's not something to be ignored anymore. There's something there - whether it's just a friendship on Quinn's side or something more - but it's there, and Rachel can't bring herself _not_ to pursue it.

* * *

Rachel likes to think about what her life would be like if Quinn were a boy she liked; if Sarah had an older brother instead. Would Rachel still like Quinn, then? Is it about Quinn, or is it that Quinn is a girl?

If Quinn were a boy, would they actually be able to date if society would allow them to? Would the age difference be too weird? Would Sarah find it awkward? Would they have to hide it as well?

Rachel sighs, and then allows her mother to lead the way through the aisles as they search for a gift for Sarah. She doesn't exactly know who is going to be at the dinner, given that it's unlikely Sarah would invite any of their Glee friends.

Rachel might be overlooked in the Fabray house, but Kurt, Mercedes And Tina definitely won't, if Russell is as... racist and homophobic as Rachel gets the impression he is.

"What does Sarah like?" Shelby asks, glancing over her shoulder at Rachel. "Perfume, maybe? Some kind of cosmetics?"

Rachel almost rolls her eyes. "No, Mom," she says. "Sarah doesn't really care about that stuff all that much. She's more into books and science stuff."

Shelby gives her a sidelong look. "Books and science stuff?"

Rachel nods. "She's a bookworm, Mom," she says. "There's nothing wrong with that."

Shelby hums. "So, what did you have in mind, then?"

"What if we got her a book voucher?" she suggests. "Or, I don't know, are you willing to fork out for - " her mouth snaps shut when she spots Quinn in the next aisle over, casually perusing the board games on offer.

Shelby, thankfully, keeps her eyes on Rachel. "For what?"

Rachel blinks a few times, and then shakes her head. "Well, I mean, she plays the guitar."

"We're not getting your friend a guitar, Rachel."

"Right," she says; "but I actually meant we could get her some accessories, or some music books, I don't know."

Shelby seems to think it over. "It's definitely an idea," she allows, and then starts walking, straight towards where Quinn is standing, and Rachel finds herself holding her breath, hoping above all hope that Quinn doesn't notice them and her mother doesn't say anything.

Tough luck.

"Rachel, what if we get her, uh, _Pictionary_?" Shelby suddenly calls out, and Quinn immediately looks up, causing Rachel to flood with colour to the very roots of her hair.

Rachel is caught. Does she respond to her mother's question, or does she greet Quinn?

"Or, maybe _Scrabble_ , if you say she's an avid reader?" Shelby adds after a moment.

"Sarah already has _Scrabble_ ," Quinn suddenly says, cutting into their conversation, and Shelby looks at her, frowning at the intrusion. Ever polite, Quinn holds out her hand and says, "I'm Quinn, Sarah's older sister."

Shelby takes a moment, but does eventually shake Quinn's hand. She vaguely recognises the girl from school, she thinks, but something is obviously different about her when she's out of her uniform and away from the pressures of the school hallways.

"It's nice to meet you, Quinn," Shelby says. "I'm Shelby. Rachel's mother."

Quinn just nods, and then looks at Rachel, her eyes twinkling slightly. "So, you're looking for a gift too, I see?"

Rachel sighs. "I have no idea what to get her."

"Me, either," Quinn says. "She doesn't care much for material things, so I probably would have given her tokens for free rides or something, but she'll be getting her license soon, and what use will I be when that happens?" She tacks on a smile at the end, which makes Shelby laugh softly, but Rachel picks up on the severity in Quinn's musings.

She's genuinely worried that Sarah won't need her for anything once car rides are taken off the table, and Rachel has the sudden urge to reach out and touch her; somehow reassure her that Sarah will always need her. Her fingers even twitch, and she makes fists to stop herself from doing something disastrous.

Particularly in front of her mother. She should probably stop looking at Quinn before her face ends up giving something away. Her mother is standing right there, and Shelby seems to have figured out what to look for when it comes to this sort of thing.

Quinn glances at all the board games on display. "If you're keen on getting her something along these lines, she's a little bit obsessed with _Lego_. She'd go crazy for it."

Rachel merely nods, glancing at her mother. Shelby's expression is difficult to read, but Rachel gets the feeling she's going to have to answer some very uncomfortable questions.

Maybe Quinn can sense the tension, because she very quickly catches on, and then politely excuses herself with a very pointed look at Rachel.

Well, Shelby probably isn't going to be the only person asking Rachel some uncomfortable questions.

"I'm not sure I like her," Shelby says, frowning slightly, as if she's not really sure why she feels that way. "The Head Cheerleader, correct?"

Rachel audibly swallows. "She is, yes."

"I hear a lot of complaints about her," she absently says. "Or, is it about her friend?"

"Santana Lopez?"

"That's the one," Shelby says. "Does she give you trouble?"

Not personally, Rachel wants to say. There are a lot of other people in the school who seem to think she belongs at the bottom of the social hierarchy. "No," Rachel says. "She doesn't."

"Would you tell me if she was?"

Rachel glares at her. "I think you'll understand if I never tell you anything ever again," she says, and her tone is cold, unfeeling.

Shelby doesn't ask her anything else, and the two of them very carefully move on.

Eventually, they decide on a _Harry Potter_ themed _Lego_ set, and Rachel is actually excited _for_ Sarah. A little jealous, too, and she makes sure to write in the card that part of the gift agreement includes the fact that Rachel gets to help with construction.

She absently wonders if she'll be able to get Quinn to join them, and then very quickly dismisses that idea, because that is the absolute last thing that should be on her mind.

Particularly when she's right in front of her mother.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN** : Hi, good people. Just wanted to check in during these trying times. All this self-isolation has meant good things for this story, sort of. Basically, inspiration hit hard, but only for the second part, which basically leaves a lovely chunk still to write in the middle. Yip. At least I know how it ends. Time to fill in the gaps. I hope you're all staying safe and exercising caution and just having good sense about everything. We're faberry shippers, so we definitely know what's up 😏

* * *

**IV**

Rachel expects Sarah to be particularly excitable when it comes to her birthday, but she takes it to some other kind of level the closer they get to the day. It's not exactly an aspect of Sarah's personality that Rachel anticipates, given how understated the girl generally is, so it catches her off guard, but she's happy to learn all she can about her new friend.

She just knows Quinn is different. She's probably more subdued about her own birthday, and Rachel makes a mental note to figure out exactly when it is.

"Did you know most serial killers are born in November?" Rachel asks when Sarah has mentioned the upcoming day one too many times. The girl normally censors herself around their other friends because they're not exactly invited to the Fabray home for the event her family is planning.

Though, Quinn did promise to treat the Glee Club to ice cream after church on Sunday, and Rachel doesn't know if she's excited for or apprehensive about it. She's probably just going to drop them off and leave them be, anyway, so Rachel shouldn't really worry about it.

Kurt is already driving, so he's going to be taking Tina, Mercedes and Artie. It works in all their favour, so nobody's complaining.

"Really?" Sarah asks, gasping at the new information. "I did not know that." She pauses. "Wait. Why do you know that?"

"I follow this random facts account on a _Twitter_ ," she answers, which is the truth. "My brothers are also a little obsessed with the crime channel, which is terrifying, because they're literally six. I'm convinced they're going to turn into little murderers if left unchecked."

Sarah stares at her for a moment. "Do you know I don't even know what your brothers' names are?"

Rachel is suitably caught off guard by that, and she sputters for a moment. "Oh."

"What are their names?" Sarah asks. "Or, do you just call them Twin One and Twin Two?"

Rachel would laugh, if she weren't still reeling over the fact she probably doesn't even really talk about her little brothers because she doesn't actually spend all that much time with them. Not anymore.

"Rachel?"

She clears her throat. "Their names are Matthew and Ethan," she says. "They're sweet, but they're also little shits." She drops her gaze. "They aren't settling into Lima as well as the rest of us seem to, and they kind of still blame me for the move."

Sarah frowns. "Why would they be blaming you?"

That's an entire other story that Rachel isn't ready to get into, and she lets out a breath of relief when their teacher finally arrives and the lesson starts.

Unfortunately, the subject of her brothers sits on her brain, and it leaves her slightly distracted during the rest of her lessons. She barely says anything during lunch and, when she bumps into Quinn coming out of the bathroom, all her mouth says is _my brothers' names are Matthew and Ethan_ before she continues on her way, leaving a confused Head Cheerleader in her wake.

By the time she and Shelby leave school, Rachel wouldn't be able to tell her what she learned the entire day. Not that Shelby would ask, anyway.

It's just, that one question Sarah asked has shifted things into perspective. Rachel doesn't talk about her home life or her family, because it's almost as if she doesn't exist when she steps across the threshold. Outside of this house, she's a person that people see, but inside...

Rachel heads upstairs immediately and locks herself in her bedroom. She doesn't cry, because she told herself she wasn't going to do that again. Her mother robbed her of happiness, and she continues to do so.

Rachel does deserve it, maybe, because it comes in the form of a sin. It comes in a way that's unnatural, and Rachel wonders how her mother could possibly look at her and see some kind of mistake. Her father would understand, of course, but he's not here.

He's gone.

He wants nothing to do with her, now that he's found himself another family.

Sometimes, these feelings hit her all at once, and it all hurts in ways that truly make her want to disappear. She doesn't think anyone would miss her. Especially not in this family.

Her mother constantly claims she loves her. She repeatedly says she's doing it because she wants to protect her and see her live a happy, fulfilling life the way she is, and Rachel wants that. Of course, she does. She just doesn't think she'll ever have it if she's going to be forced to -

The sound of her phone distracts her and she immediately reaches for it, needing something to stop her mind from spiralling.

It's a text from Sarah.

 **Sarah** : _My mom just invited like a hundred other people from church. Like, why?_

 **Sarah** : _Also, Quinn wants to know if you like chocolate or vanilla? She's baking cupcakes, and she's obviously making them for you and not me. The traitor._

Despite how awful she feels, Rachel finds herself smiling. She has a feeling Sarah knows today hasn't been a good day for her, and this is a way to check in without being explicit about it. The Quinn part is a bonus, but also oddly premeditated.

She was weird today and both sisters noticed.

She takes a breath, and then moves to reply.

 **Rachel** : _More people to celebrate with, I guess. Do any of these people happen to be those good, Christian boys she's so keen on?_

 **Rachel** : _Chocolate every day of the week. Tell her I'm glad she's prioritised appropriately._

Rachel is considerably calmer as she settles on her bed and tries to relax. She has homework to do, and she'll probably work on her scales. Just, anything to keep her mother off her back.

Her phone sounds again and she smiles automatically.

 **Sarah** : _God, I hope not. Can you imagine her trying to pimp me out at my own birthday?_

The thing is, well, Rachel actually can.

Well, she can definitely imagine _her_ mother doing it.

 **Sarah** : _You totally can, can't you?_

 **Sarah** : _Also, you and Quinn totally suck. Tell her yourself._

Rachel's breath catches in her throat at the reminder that the next time she talks to Quinn is probably going to result in a few truths being revealed. After today, she knows she should be doing more to distance herself. Despite everything, she _does_ love her family. She wants to stay a part of it, and that won't happen if she continues to break the rules her mother has set.

She and Quinn... can't... happen.

Nothing can happen.

She's going to have to figure out a way to accept that.

* * *

She can't.

Not when she arrives at the Fabray house to find Quinn sitting on the front porch, wearing a baby yellow dress, white cardigan and Oxford Wedges. Her breath gets stuck in her throat at the sight of her, and Rachel is legitimately in trouble.

"Hey," Quinn says, getting to her feet. "You made it."

"Am I late?"

"Early, more like," Quinn says, her smile soft, present. "You look nice."

Rachel blushes at the compliment. "So do you."

Quinn shrugs. "My mother picked it out. Biff is here."

"Biff?"

Quinn doesn't bother to explain. "Are you going to go inside?"

"Are you?"

"Not if I don't have to."

"You have to, Quinn," Rachel says, smiling when Quinn lets out a groan. "Come on," she says. "We can go in together. It can't be that bad."

"Famous last words, Berry. Don't say I didn't warn you."

Rachel just smiles, tempted to hold out her hand for Quinn to take. She doesn't. She just leads the way inside the house, hoping that Quinn's prediction is wrong.

* * *

It's not.

Not even a little bit.

* * *

"What are you doing up here?"

Quinn looks up from her _iPad_ at the sound of Rachel's voice. "I could ask you the same question," she says, grinning a little. "And, you know, I kind of live here."

"Your aunt is insane," Rachel says, hovering in the doorway to Quinn's bedroom, uncertain if she's welcome after the last time she was in here.

Quinn chuckles softly, setting her tablet aside and sitting up on her bed. She regards Rachel carefully, her mind screaming at her to send the brunette back downstairs, but her body doing no such thing.

"Let me guess," Quinn says; "she's hooked her talons into Sarah?"

"As worried as I am for her, I won't put myself on the line."

"Some best friend you are."

Rachel shrugs. "I don't see you rushing to her aid," she points out.

"Yeah, well, I'm a terrible sister, so that's nothing new."

Rachel sighs. "I wish you wouldn't say things like that," she says, folding her arms across her chest. "I hate that you think you're not an integral part of this family." There's a certain edge to her voice that makes Quinn curious; as if Rachel's own words could be directed at herself.

Quinn also thinks this is the moment she makes the decision: the all important one about herself and about Rachel and about _them_. It should terrify her, but it's more liberating than anything.

"Do you want to come inside?" she asks, her voice trembling slightly. "It's kind of awkward your just standing there."

Rachel takes a step forward. "'Awkward' is my middle name," she automatically says, and then cringes at herself. Did she really just say that?

Quinn raises an eyebrow, looking slightly amused. "Is it really?"

"No."

"Are you going to tell me what it really is?" Quinn asks, watching as Rachel makes her way further into the room.

"Will you tell me yours?"

"Sure."

"Just like that?"

"Were you expecting to have to earn it?" she asks, and, God, they're totally flirting. Her palms are even sweating at the thought that this is actually happening.

"I just didn't expect you to give it away so easily."

Quinn watches as Rachel seems to consider her options; eventually deciding to brave it and settle on the edge of Quinn's bed. She's close enough to touch, but that is definitely not going to happen.

It can't.

That's a boundary Quinn won't cross, even if she's crossed all the others.

"My middle name isn't some big secret," she says. "I'd wager you already know it."

Rachel frowns. "How is that even possible?"

Quinn smile is a little secretive. "What's your middle name?"

"Na ah, you first."

"At the same time."

"You have to promise not to laugh."

Quinn's eyes widen. "Why would I laugh?" she asks. "Is it embarrassing? You're not named after the State, are you? Imagine you're actually named Ohio?"

Rachel gives her a curious look.

Quinn flushes under the scrutiny. "What?"

"How did I not know how weird you are?"

" _Hey_."

Rachel's features soften. "I like it, though," she says. "Makes you more… real."

Quinn blinks. "Is that a good thing?"

"I don't yet know, to be honest," she confesses. "Ask me again some time."

"Noted."

"So, what's your middle name?"

"You first."

Rachel sighs, slightly exasperated. "It's Barbra."

Quinn raises her eyebrows. "Wait," she says; "as in Streisand?"

"Don't judge."

"I'm not," Quinn says, smiling softly. "Your parents are fans?"

Rachel drops her gaze to her hands. "They are, yes," she says. "My father insisted, apparently. I've been destined to be a fan since I was in the womb."

"It's cute," she finds herself saying, and then flushes slightly. "Rachel Barbra Berry. It's a good, superstar name."

"You think?"

"Definitely."

Rachel leans forward slightly. "Now, tell me yours."

"You already know mine."

"I'm pretty sure I don't."

"You definitely do."

"Um, no, I don't."

Quinn's smile is borderline mischievous, and Rachel is so smitten. "My middle name is Quinn," she says.

Rachel frowns. "Your middle name is Quinn," she echoes. "Quinn is not your first name."

Quinn nods her head.

"Oh? What is it?"

Here, Quinn hesitates, though she can't be sure exactly why. It's not really as if it's some big secret, but revealing her first name feels as if it's going to be the start of her revealing all of her secrets, and it's terrifying.

Maybe Rachel can sense this, because she says, "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." It's a kind offer, but they both know there's really no turning back now.

"It's Lucy," Quinn says. "I was named after my father's mother, Lucille. She died a month before I was born."

Rachel takes a moment to process. "I'm sorry about your grandmother," she finally says. "Have you always gone by Quinn?"

"Yes," she says. "My first name was just for sentimentality, I think. My mom's called me Quinn since I can remember. I got the shock of my life when I saw my own birth certificate and learned my name wasn't _actually_ Quinn."

Rachel lets out a soft giggle, and Quinn's features soften. She's so charmed by the sound, and she can barely handle the way her heart flutters in her chest.

Quinn lets them lapse into silence, and then she very quietly says, "I'm a diabetic." She keeps her gaze on her hands, not wanting to see Rachel's reaction. "It's Type 1. I've been on Insulin for almost ten years now. I inject myself daily. What you saw, Halloween night, was... well, I'm not very good at looking after myself sometimes." She clears her throat. "I know it's not really supposed to hinder my life if I manage it properly, but it's..." she trails off. "I know how dangerous it can be. I've read up on it all and suffered numerous scares. Believe me, I'm well-versed on all the research and literature behind it, but I just - I guess, sometimes, I'd just like to be a normal kid, you know?"

Quinn doesn't admit that she hasn't felt like a kid since her sister was born. There are only two years between them, but Quinn feels so much older.

Rachel doesn't know what to say at first, because this is more information than she anticipated getting when she climbed those stairs in search of the blonde. Quinn is diabetic. That's... not exactly what she was expecting to hear, but it suddenly makes a lot more sense.

The fatigue, the way Judy constantly tallies what Quinn is eating, the strange vials, all of it.

Rachel audibly swallows. "How - how are you feeling now?"

Quinn's smile is gentle. "I'm doing okay," she says. "I just - sometimes, I don't like to eat." She drops her gaze. "Food and I have a complicated history, but I need it to maintain healthy glucose levels, and I - " she stops. "God, this is a lot of information, isn't it?"

Rachel doesn't comment. "It must have been scary when you first found out."

"I was eight, so, yeah, it was," she says. "I just started to get tired all the time, and my eating habits changed. I was thirsty all the time and I probably peed like five hundred times a day. I think my mom was convinced I had some rare blood disease or something by the time they took me to the hospital. But, no, I was diagnosed with juvenile diabetes, and it's really as exciting as it sounds."

Rachel shakes her head. "It's serious?"

"It's regarded as terminal," Quinn says, and Rachel sucks in a breath. "There's no actual cure. You just have to manage it. Maybe, in the future, they'll find something, because there's quite a lot of cell research going on."

Rachel nods, showing she's following.

"When she was little, Sarah kind of promised she would find the cure, so I'm waiting patiently for her to follow through."

At that, Rachel smiles. "I wouldn't put it past her."

"Exactly."

They fall into another silence, merely staring at each other, and Quinn can feel the way the air between them is threatening to spark and ignite. They're like magnets at this point, and Rachel feels almost powerless.

She tries desperately to hold on to her good sense.

"Quinn, what are we doing?" she whispers, as if she's too worried to put the question into the Universe.

Quinn just stares at her mouth, sounding breathless. "Fuck if I know."

Rachel honestly thinks they would have kissed. There's a sense of inevitability about it, and she's sure it's only a matter of time.

But.

Now isn't the time, because they both hear footsteps on the stairs, and it's as effective as pouring iced water over them both. Rachel immediately leans back - _when did she even move closer, anyway_? - and then stumbles to her feet, because, dammit, what the hell is she doing?

"Quinn," she breathes, panicked. "We - this - I - "

Quinn blinks a handful of times, and then gets to her feet, just in time for Sarah to come bursting through her slightly-ajar door.

For a moment, all three of them freeze, but Quinn recovers first, slipping easily into the persona of someone who wasn't actively thinking about kissing her kid sister's best friend, who happens to be a girl.

"I see Aunt Denise released you from her claws," Quinn says, her voice trembling only slightly, as she shifts towards her chest of drawers.

"What's going on?" Sarah asks, looking between them with unconcealed suspicion. She can clearly tell she interrupted something, and her senses are telling her it was something they both don't want her to know.

Quinn opens her top drawer and pulls out a small wrapped box. "I was just getting Rachel's opinion on your gift," she says, forcing a smile as she turns back to Sarah. "It turns out I did a little better than I thought, if this kid is supposed to be believed."

The sound of a present is enough to distract Sarah from what she might have interrupted, and Rachel does her best not to bristle at the fact Quinn just referred to her as a 'kid.' Or cringe.

It helps that Quinn looks like she regrets it immediately, so that's a good thing. She actually looks a little green.

Sarah snatches the neatly-wrapped gift when Quinn hands it to her, and immediately rips into it.

Quinn scoffs. "I spent a lot of time on that," she says. "At least act civil. Jesus."

Sarah ignores her, and Rachel keeps her focus on Sarah as her heartbeat slowly settles from when it skyrocketed mere minutes ago.

"Oh, my god," Sarah suddenly says, her eyes widening as she lifts her gaze to look at her sister. "Where? What? Where did you even find this?"

If Quinn is honest, she wasn't expecting Sarah to look so... emotional. "Sarah?"

"I can't believe you actually remembered."

Quinn exchanges a look with Rachel, who looks as caught off guard as Quinn does. Before the blonde knows it, Sarah is barrelling towards her and almost knocking her off her feet with the force of her hug.

Quinn lets out a huff as the air leaves her body. "Sarah, seriously, it's just a gift."

"But, you remembered," Sarah mumbles into Quinn's shoulder. "I'm sixteen, and Mom still can't remember I don't like mushrooms."

Quinn rubs her back gently, and then sucks in a deep breath when Sarah finally releases her. She goes back to her gift, which is a Dogeared 'Maya Angelou' Flower Charm Pendant Necklace that Quinn had to order online. She was only in the stores looking for a backup gift, in case this one didn't arrive on time.

She knows how much Sarah loves Maya Angelou, and she's been looking for a replacement necklace ever since she lost her silver cross at last summer's bible camp. It's almost weird their mother hasn't mentioned it.

"I'm glad you like it," Quinn says.

"Thank you, Quinn," Sarah says. "I don't even want to wear it. It's like a collectible."

"Well, you don't have to wear it," she offers. "I mean, you - "

"Of course, I'm going to wear it," Sarah cuts her off, and then demands that Quinn put it on for her. She stares at herself in the mirror for a long minute, before she reaches for both Quinn and Rachel's hands and then drags them downstairs to suffer with her.

* * *

Rachel knows she shouldn't be staring, but she can't help it. Quinn is talking to some boy in the corner of the room, and she can't help the twisting in her gut. It helps that Quinn doesn't look remotely interested, and the two of them actually seem to be glancing towards another part of the room.

Rachel follows their gaze to spot a young brunette, who is talking to an old lady with greying hair and looks to be hard of hearing. When her eyes turn back to Quinn, the blonde is alone and she's studying Rachel curiously. Rachel flushes immediately and then looks away.

Which Quinn uses as invitation to make her way across the room towards her. "That's Biff," Quinn says when she's close enough, and Rachel already hates him. "My mom wants me to date him."

"But you don't want to."

"What ever gave that away?"

Rachel glances at her. "You're trying to set him up with that brunette over there."

"And he's making it so damn difficult," Quinn complains, getting a giggle out of Rachel. "Like, I'm trying so hard, Rachel, but he's literally a disaster." She huffs out a breath. "I mean, look," she says, gesturing towards where Biff seems to be flailing at talking to the confused-looking girl.

"Who is this poor girl you've subjected him to?"

"Her name is Marley," Quinn says. "She's sweet, and I thought she could use some positive attention. Help build her confidence a little and, if they end up dating because of it, yay, but he's just... urgh. I kind of just want to slap the douche out of him and punch some personality into him. I've never had my patience tested so much, and I have to deal with Santana Lopez on a daily basis."

Rachel can't help that she flinches at the sound of the Latina's name, and the fact Quinn's eyes grow wide proves she's noticed. "It's - it's fine," she stutters out. "I'm sorry."

Quinn takes a small step towards her. "Rachel?"

Rachel really doesn't need Quinn to be saying her name. Especially not like that. "I'm fine," she assures, though it's a bit of a lie. "I'm used to it."

Quinn looks horrified now, and it's too late to take back the words.

Sarah, once again, comes to Rachel's rescue, and she's so relieved to be dragged away, because she does not want to be having a conversation about bullying with Quinn Fabray. God. She could go her entire life without that ever happening.

She could spend entire lifetimes without having a great many conversations, actually. Most include her mother, but the number involving Quinn seems to be growing.

Though, if she has any intention of actually seeing where this thing with Quinn could possibly go, she knows they're probably going to have to talk about things. Soon.

Thankfully, though, Quinn lets her go and even manages to leave her alone for the rest of the night, which Rachel tries not to dwell on for far too long. She's caught between being relieved and disappointed, but she ignores it enough to see out the rest of the evening without being a complete disaster.

When the guests leave, Judy has them all cleaning up, and Quinn spends her time near her mother, which leaves Rachel and Sarah to handle the other half of things. Russell, wisely, made himself scarce, and Rachel envies him.

Rachel is spending the night, so there's no actual rush, but Quinn goes up to bed earlier than the rest of them, feigning fatigue that may actually be true.

Judy kisses her cheek and Sarah gives her a tight hug before Quinn politely says goodnight to Rachel, and then disappears up the stairs.

Rachel wishes she stayed, just because, but she realises this is best. They really can't be doing this.

They shouldn't.

It's what she tells herself, repeatedly, when she and Sarah eventually go to bed, disappearing into their respective bedrooms. Rachel stands perfectly still on the carpet for the longest time, before she grabs her toiletry bag and goes to the bathroom.

She should stay busy. Keep moving. That way, she won't be tempted to do things she really shouldn't. It's just that Quinn is right there. Her bedroom. Her door, with her just behind it. And now they're doing this thing, whatever it is, and it's making Rachel a little crazy.

A lot crazy, really.

She has to force herself to bypass Quinn's room when she's finally done in the bathroom, and it takes her far too long than she'll care to admit to fall asleep, just the idea that Quinn is a room away filling her brain with too many undesirable thoughts.

* * *

Rachel's prediction is correct.

Quinn drives her and Sarah to the ice-cream parlour, waits patiently while everyone places his or her order, pays quickly, tells Sarah to call her when she's ready, and then disappears.

Rachel does receive a quick look over the shoulder, which does things to her insides it shouldn't, but she can't help it.

She can't help how she's feeling, and that's something her mother can't seem to understand. It's something she's probably going to have to live with while she's still at home, but she doesn't know how she's supposed to spend her entire life pretending girls like Quinn Fabray don't light her up the way society says boys are supposed to.

Sometimes, Rachel wishes she were brave enough to confide in someone. She's considered talking to Kurt about it, hoping he'll understand, but she doesn't know him nearly well enough.

Maybe some day, in the future.

Right now, she's just going to pretend everything is a-okay and enjoy this little ragtag group of friends she's managed to accumulate for herself, especially given her late arrival at William McKinley.

And, really, they are a bit of an odd bunch. Tina stuttering away, Mercedes trying to have the last word, Kurt snarking about, Artie just trying to keep up, Sarah dominating without even trying, and Rachel observing with an odd sense of detachment.

She wants to be part of all of it, of course, but she can't help that her mind drifts to Quinn, or that she's constantly worried someone might actually be able to smell the gay on her. Sometimes, she's convinced she reeks of it.

She has to be so careful, she knows, because she sometimes catches herself staring a little too long at parts she definitely shouldn't. Particularly Quinn's.

Rachel clears her throat, coming back to the present. She needs to focus. Quinn is just a girl, and Rachel can get through life without having to give in.

Which she has a feeling she might do if Quinn continues to give her signs that she wouldn't be against Rachel pursuing this.

Pursuing _her_.

Rachel doesn't think anyone notices she's been a little distracted, but Sarah asks her about it as soon as they're back in Quinn's car just an hour later. Rachel frowns slightly, her eyes meeting Quinn's gaze in the rearview mirror. Her eyebrow rises in question, and Rachel wishes none of this was happening.

"Oh, I guess I'm just a bit tired," Rachel says, dropping her gaze.

Sarah turns around in the passenger's seat. "Are you sure?" she asks. "You seemed really thoughtful earlier."

Rachel feels her heart start to beat that bit faster. "I'm always thoughtful," she says, trying to make light of the moment.

"You sure you're okay?" Sarah asks again, not buying it.

Quinn comes to a stop at a red light, and Rachel can see the way her grip on the steering wheel tightens. Rachel wishes she could reach out and touch her, just to ease her tension.

Ease _both_ their tensions.

But, that's not something they do, and Rachel wouldn't risk such a thing with Sarah sitting right there. How would she even explain herself?

"I'm okay," Rachel says. "I'd tell you if I wasn't." Which is a bald-faced lie, and Rachel knows it.

From the look Quinn gives her, she knows it too.

Rachel just shrugs, and then keeps her gaze on her hands in her lap for the rest of the drive to the Fabray house. She only lifts her head when they pull into the driveway, and Sarah immediately gets out, claiming she needs to pee and running right into the house.

Rachel remains where she is in the backseat, and Quinn doesn't move either.

"You're not okay, are you?" Quinn asks.

Rachel sighs. "I guess not."

"You can talk to Sarah, you know," she says. "She's... good."

Rachel clears her throat. "Would you talk to her?" she asks.

Quinn clenches her jaw. "Maybe," she says. "It's - it's different for me."

Rachel accepts that it is, but her answer isn't helpful. She knows Quinn is talking about something very specific - something unnamed - and she's terrified of the moment one of them actually says it out loud.

Rachel sighs. "We should go inside," she says.

Quinn doesn't move. "I'm actually not coming inside," she says.

"Oh?"

"I have to talk to my best friend, too," she says with a slight shrug. "I have a lot that makes me not okay."

"You hide it well."

"Well, I could teach you a thing or two."

And, God, they're flirting again, aren't they? "Oh yeah?"

"I am older," Quinn says with a slight grin as she turns to look at Rachel. "More life experience and all that."

And, yeah, Rachel desperately wants to kiss her. It's almost impossible to suppress, but she manages to curb the desire. "If you say so."

Quinn smiles, almost too sadly for Rachel to witness. It hurts her to see it. "Sarah's probably wondering where you are," she eventually says.

Rachel nods once, and then moves her hand to the handle of the door, but she doesn't yet open it. "Thank you for today," she says. "I know Sarah really appreciated it."

Quinn chuckles. "Sure thing, Berry."

Rachel offers her one last smile, and then she does get out. She walks towards the front door of the house, aware that Quinn's car is still in the driveway.

It moves only once she's safely inside.

Really, Rachel is even more convinced she's never quite stood a chance.

* * *

On Monday morning, Finn Hudson expresses his interest in Rachel for the first time, and said girl has absolutely no idea what to do about it. _Especially_ after the boy does the thing and actually joins the Glee Club to show her how serious he is, throwing Rachel completely.

All her friends tease her about it, and it's common knowledge by lunch on Wednesday that the star quarterback has set his eyes on her, and Rachel hates that she's wondering what Quinn thinks about the whole thing.

She learns that truth when she meets the Head Cheerleader in the bathroom, and Quinn does the thing and stands in front of the door, hands behind her back, a curious look on her face and the clear intention of not letting Rachel past her.

Quinn stares, and Rachel stares right back.

The brunette breaks first, because she already knows what this is about. They both do.

"Stop looking at me like that," Rachel says.

"Like what?"

"Like you disapprove."

Quinn glares a little. "Like I disapprove, huh?" she muses, and then doesn't shy away from mentioning the elephant in the room. "Don't you think he's a little... tall?"

"Are you trying to say I'm short?"

Quinn laughs softly as she pushes off the door and steps towards Rachel. "I don't know how you inferred that, when I mentioned Hudson's height. It's freakish. Why's he so fucking tall?"

Rachel regards her carefully. "Why are you so interested, anyway?" she asks, wondering if Quinn will actually say it out loud.

Quinn's jaw clenches. "I'm not," she says, and they can both hear the lie.

Rachel is oddly disappointed, but not particularly surprised. She also feels a little guilty for trying to push Quinn to make a move by using the fact that Finn seems to be interested in her, for whatever reason. It's not fair, she knows, but she also knows the first step towards something more has to come from Quinn.

Sure, she knows they both have a lot to lose, but Quinn seems to be struggling with this more than she is, and rushing would just spook the flighty blonde. That's the last thing she wants, so she's trying to be patient.

But, Quinn is just too adorable, and the latent and apparent jealousy on her face makes Rachel want to reach out and touch her.

She resists.

They're not ready yet.

"I'm not going to date him," is what Rachel ends up saying, realising they both need her to say the words. "I don't want to. _I can't._ "

Quinn eyes her curiously for a long moment, as if she's searching her for something. Whether she finds it or not, she doesn't know, but Quinn's shoulders seem to relax slightly, and she smiles ever so slightly. "It's because he's too tall, isn't it?"

And, Rachel knows they both need her to say, "Yes, Quinn, it's because he's too tall," so she does.

_It's also because I'm gay and I really, really like you, but we're not talking about that yet._

* * *

Quinn takes a breath as she spreads out on Santana's bed, her arms at her sides. She's exhausted beyond measure, with all the cheerleading practice and all this... emotional stuff about Rachel that really shouldn't be on her mind at all.

But, it is.

 _She_ is.

Quinn wants nothing more than for all of this to disappear, so she can focus on making it to graduation, and then getting out of this town and actually living her life.

Doing what she wants, preferably.

Without her parents' influence.

"What's wrong with you?" Santana eventually asks, cutting into Quinn's thoughts. "You've been in a mood since you got here. What's up? Talk to Auntie Tana."

Quinn lets out an amused breath. "It's... nothing."

"Lies."

Quinn sighs, absently moving to sit up. "San?"

"Hmm?"

"You love Brittany, right?"

Santana immediately stops fiddling with her phone and looks at Quinn, eyebrows raised. "You already know the answer to that, Q," she says. "What's this really about?"

Quinn drops her gaze. "What was it like... starting to develop feelings for someone society told you that you probably shouldn't?"

Santana clenches her jaw for a moment, recalling just how difficult things have been for her and her secret girlfriend. "It was fucking terrifying."

Quinn thinks she understands that. It's doubly so, because Rachel is younger than her, and at least Brittany's family supports her relationship with Santana.

Quinn and Rachel won't have anyone.

Nobody can ever know.

Except, maybe, Santana.

Quinn lifts her gaze. "If I tell you something, do you promise not to laugh at me?"

"That depends," Santana says with a smirk.

Quinn doesn't react.

Sensing the severity of the situation, Santana straightens. "What's happening, babe?" she asks. "Do you like someone you shouldn't?"

"Yes."

Santana forces herself not to react, even though she has thousands of questions.

Quinn clears her throat. "This is the last thing I need or even want," she says. "You know all I want to do is get out of here, and this is just fucking up everything."

"How?"

Quinn audibly swallows. "Well, our ages, for starters."

"Older?"

Quinn shakes her head.

Santana blinks. "How much younger?"

"Two years."

Santana nods. "That's not terrible," she says. "A little odd, but not a cardinal sin."

"I'm not done."

Santana snaps her mouth shut. What more could there be?

"I never thought I would ever be interested in one of Sarah's friend," Quinn admits, and the fact she can say the words out loud is monumental enough. She looks at Santana, and she can see the girl is trying to figure out whom she's talking about. If it wasn't so terrifying, she would find it amusing.

But, alas, Quinn isn't yet ready to confess to anyone - not even Rachel - that she's rather inclined towards Sapphic desires.

God.

She's _really_ not there yet.

Santana notices the slight panic in Quinn's features. "What are you going to do?"

Quinn shakes her head. "Nothing."

"Why?"

"I can't," Quinn says. "We can't."

"Why not?" Santana asks. "It's not a big deal, Q. It might be a little different, maybe a bit awkward for Sarah, but people will get over it."

"San, I can't," Quinn says, and she sounds both annoyed and angry. "It just can't happen. At all. I mean, my parents would never accept it, and I don't want to... put us through all that when..." she trails off.

Santana senses there's something more to it, so she asks, "Is the feeling mutual?"

"What?"

"It's just, you seem oddly despondent about the whole thing, and I'm wondering if this is unrequited interest... which is preposterous, because you're a fucking catch."

Quinn just about manages a smile, because she _is_ 'a fucking catch.' "It's never been explicitly said, but I know it's there."

It's definitely there. Quinn's not blind, and she's also not an idiot. Rachel is definitely interested, and Quinn thinks she's doing a poor job of trying to act as if she isn't as well.

Because, really, she is. She _wants_ Rachel. She likes Rachel, far more than she's liked anyone else before, and it's beyond scary, because she really doesn't like feeling this out of control about her emotions.

Quinn has spent years holding everything inside, and it's only just starting to come out. College is just one thing she's struggling to keep a handle on, and the more time she spends with Rachel is going to result in her doing something completely crazy.

Like grabbing the girl by one of her stupid sweaters and kissing her senseless.

She doesn't think that'll go down well. With anyone.

Least alone herself.

Quinn can almost delude herself into thinking none of this is even happening. Maybe it's all in her head or something. She's imagining it. She doesn't actually stare at Rachel as much as she does, and she sure as hell isn't catching the girl staring right back as much as she is.

Surely.

"I still don't see what the problem is," Santana says. "If you think it's going to be such a problem, then just date in secret. Britt and I do it."

Quinn has to admit she's entertained the idea, but this is different. "Sure, but you two can get away with hanging out as just best friends, particularly if you get caught. We won't have that luxury."

Santana blows out a breath. "Look, I'm certain you could come up with a hundred reasons not to pursue this," she says. "And, you know, they might all be valid, but you're bringing it up to me for a reason, so I think you actually want advice."

"Advice?"

"On how to conduct a secret relationship without anyone knowing."

While Quinn doesn't explicitly confirm Santana's conclusion, she does pay a little closer attention when the Latina starts listing all the things she's probably going to have to do to make sure nobody finds out.

That's if this... attraction ever becomes something.

Which, if Quinn can help it, it won't.

* * *

Quinn's resolve crumbles exactly two days later.

It's called Black Friday for a reason, she thinks, as Santana drops her off at home after a full day of trailing behind Brittany and Santana as they fought for all the best pieces at all the best sales. She's pretty sure she has bruises in places she really shouldn't, but there's nothing to be done. She's exhausted, and she hasn't eaten anything all day. She _knows_ her mother is going to have a few words to say about that.

If she ever finds out.

Quinn will be the first to admit she really hasn't been paying attention to her health the past few days. Thanksgiving tends to be a busy time, and there's too much good - bad, sugary - food and there's a lot of family around that sneaking away for injections and glucose level tests tends to be difficult. She has a handful of Mini-Mes who like to follow her around, and it's just more convenient to save her… self-medicating for late at night.

She's a terrible patient, really.

And, the reality of that doesn't quite hit her until the dizziness does the second she steps out of Santana's car. It's as if her body has decided this is the moment it's going to shut down.

She's been in this position before. She can practically feel it settling over her in the worst way as she steps through the front door and allows the day as a whole to hit her.

Her brain slows, and she feels the rush of imbalanced glucose levels as if the sensors are swimming in her veins. It's low, she can tell, but she didn't have any snack bars with her, because Santana always steals them from her bag when she gets hungry.

"Mom," Quinn calls out from the entrance hall, swaying slightly.

"In here, Sweetheart," Judy says from somewhere that sounds vaguely like the kitchen.

"Mom!" Quinn calls again, and there's slight panic evident in her voice.

It's enough that Judy comes running, followed closely by Sarah, and then Rachel. Judy takes one look at her, and then says, "Sarah, get the emergency glucagon."

Sarah disappears from sight immediately, and Judy starts towards Quinn, her hands reaching out. It's a good thing, too, because Quinn loses consciousness mere seconds later, and the last thing she sees are Rachel's chestnut eyes full of worry.

* * *

Before Quinn, Rachel has watched only one person faint before. It was in the sixth grade and they were doing a Science investigation and trying to determine what blood type they all were based on some crude testing. Her practical partner, Harriet, ended up fainting at the sight of the reddish brown liquid, and Rachel remembers screaming then.

And, now.

It catches her by surprise, the sound that comes out of her, and Judy casts a nervous look at her as she tries to settle Quinn on the ground as carefully as she can.

What happens next is all a blur.

She stands, frozen, as Judy and Sarah get Quinn settled on the couch, Judy very carefully injecting her while Rachel sees but doesn't _see_. Judy sends Sarah to get something else, and Rachel can't seem to focus.

All she knows is that Quinn is -

Quinn is -

"Rachel," Sarah suddenly says. "Rachel, come here. Help us get her upstairs. She'll be more comfortable in her bed."

Rachel doesn't move.

Sarah exchanges a look with Judy.

"We can leave her down here until your father gets home," Judy says. She glances worriedly at Rachel, who looks paler than she's ever seen her. She nudges Sarah, and gestures towards the girl in the corner, who is staring unseeingly at Quinn's unconscious form. "Talk to her," she says. "Explain that Quinn is going to be okay. She looks particularly shell-shocked."

Sarah thinks that's obvious to see. If she recalls the first time she watched her sister's glucose levels go out of whack, she doesn't really blame Rachel for her reaction. Sarah nods at her mother, and then walks towards Rachel.

"Hey," she murmurs. "You okay?"

It takes a moment, but Rachel eventually looks at her. "What?"

"Are you okay?"

Rachel opens her mouth to respond, and then thinks better of it, because, no, she's not okay. She's the furthest from okay, and she has the sudden urge to touch Quinn; to make sure she's really there.

If Sarah senses it, all she says is, "She's going to be okay, you know?" She waits a beat. "It happens, sometimes, when her..." she trails off. "Did she tell you?"

"About the diabetes?"

Sarah nods, looking slightly relieved she doesn't actually have to explain, even if she is surprised that's information Quinn decided to divulge. It's really not something she talks about, at all. Ever. "When her glucose levels drop too low or rise too high, things can happen. It's not... the worst." There's a dark look in her eye, and Rachel can tell that there's been a time when it _was_ the worst.

Sarah shakes her head, as if clearing it. "She'll be fine. Her body just needs some rest." She tries to smile in reassurance. "And probably some juice for when she wakes up," she adds, thinking the way Rachel is staring at Quinn is a little frightening. "Do you want to come with me to the kitchen to get some?"

It takes another moment, but Rachel eventually gets moving, her feet carrying her without her brain really paying attention.

The two of them spend the next few minutes in the kitchen, Rachel sitting at the table and Sarah moving around her. Neither of them actually speaks, and Sarah keeps a worrying eye on her friend as the time ticks by.

Quinn is an idiot.

Sarah leaves once, and then returns with her laptop, and the two of them try to distract themselves with videos from the craziness that can be Black Friday.

Rachel has just come back to herself by the time Russell gets home, and she barely pays attention as Judy explains the situation to him. He nods, sombre and solemn, and then asks if she contacted Quinn's doctor. They talk a bit more, settle on the fact Quinn won't need a visit to the emergency room, and then Russell does the thing and lifts Quinn into his arms as if she weighs nothing.

Maybe she doesn't.

Maybe she really does weigh nothing when she's like this.

This whole thing is terrifying. Rachel doesn't want to be feeling any of this, and there's a part of her that hates Quinn a little bit for putting her through this.

This isn't what she asked for.

She didn't sign up for any of this.

None of this is supposed to be happening, and, yet, it is.

It definitely, definitely is.

* * *

This thing that's happening sees Rachel sneaking out of her room and into Quinn's once she's sure the rest of the household is asleep. She wonders if she should feel nervous about what she's about to do, but she doesn't. All she knows is she needs to see Quinn, and that's all.

Rachel doesn't bother with knocking. She just opens Quinn's door, carefully and quietly. She half expects Quinn to be asleep, but she's not. Instead, she's leaning against the pillows of her bed and fiddling with her phone, her bedside lamp on and a slight scowl on her face.

Which disappears the second she sees Rachel. In fact, her entire face transforms into a pleased, almost relieved, smile, and she says, "Hey."

Rachel moves towards her, just needing to get closer. She can't bring herself to speak as she settles on the edge of the bed, her eyes tracing Quinn's features, as if she could somehow commit them to memory.

"Everything okay?" Quinn asks, sounding hesitant.

Rachel shakes her head. "You don't get to do that, okay?" she says. "I - I never want to have to go through that ever again, okay?"

Quinn drops her gaze, flushing slightly. "Okay," she eventually says.

Rachel sighs, suddenly feeling exhausted. "I don't know what's happening," she says. "I - I don't know what I'm doing."

"What are you doing?" Quinn asks, her voice barely a whisper.

It's odd, Rachel thinks, that this is going to be the first time they actually touch. It's the only thing running through her mind as her hand starts moving of its own accord, reaching out for Quinn's forearm. Her fingers are trembling as the tips touch warm, soft skin.

"Rachel," Quinn whispers.

She doesn't say anything, just carefully trails her fingers along Quinn's arm, feeling goosebumps erupt where she's just touched. It merely confirms that she's not the only one feeling all of this.

"We can't," Quinn says, but she contradicts her own words by moving her own arm until they're actually holding hands.

They're holding hands, fingers linked and palms pressed together.

It's everything and nothing, and Rachel feels her heart rate rise. They're actually touching, and she doesn't know how they're ever supposed to go back to where they were now that they've taken this irreversible step.

Rachel now knows what it feels like to touch Quinn, and she never wants to stop.

"We can't what?" Rachel asks.

Quinn meets her gaze. "You know what."

Rachel says nothing. She merely squeezes Quinn's hand and leans forward, just wanting to be closer.

Quinn can smell her shampoo, and she knows there's no way to get out of this. She doesn't even want to.

She wants this.

She _wants_ Rachel.

So, Quinn gently tugs, and her intent is clear. It takes an obscenely long time, their eyes locked as they both contemplate if this is really happening.

It is, and it does.

Quinn reaches up just as Rachel leans down, and they share their very first kiss, merely a pressing of lips. Quinn's heart thumps dangerously, and she's sure she's going to have a heart attack or something equally tragic.

It's not the longest kiss, and Rachel pulls away first, keeping her eyes closed and resting her forehead against Quinn's.

Neither of them says a word, and Rachel can feel Quinn relax back against her pillows, sighing softly. Rachel smiles gently, following, because this is all so terrifying, but Quinn isn't running away.

In fact, she's not doing much of anything, and Rachel realises far too late that Quinn's breathing has evened out, and she's actually fallen asleep.

Rachel slowly pulls back, opening her eyes to see Quinn's slumbering form, a tiny smile on her face. It's cute and heartbreaking, and Rachel knows nothing more can come of this.

If Quinn even remembers any of this when she wakes up.

Rachel's not sure if she wants Quinn to remember it or not, if she's being honest, but she knows it can't happen again. Quinn is right. They really can't do this.

They _can't_.

"I'm going to fall in love with you," Rachel whispers, her fingers tracing the line of Quinn's jaw. "It's okay, you don't have to love me back. I'm still going to give you my heart."

The words are said with a certain heaviness that catches Rachel off guard. It's almost a vow, and less of a prediction.

Maybe because it's already happened.

Rachel is already in love with her.

* * *

When Quinn wakes the next morning, Rachel is gone.

As in left the house completely kind of gone. Quinn isn't sure what to feel about it, and she spends all of Saturday brooding about Rachel and their... kiss.

It was a kiss, right?

They kissed.

They really did.

She remembers warm, soft lips and feeling the entire world shift from beneath her feet, even if she was lying down.

It happened, and Quinn has no idea what she's supposed to do about it now.


	5. Chapter 5

**V**

Rachel, predictably, doesn't fare any better.

From the second she's in her mother's presence, she's paranoid that the woman will be able to take one look at her and just know.

Shelby seems to have developed a sense about these things, and Rachel can't bring herself to look her in the eye. Maybe that's more telling, she doesn't know, but the entire time she spent at the Fabray house has left her completely out-of-sorts.

She kissed Quinn.

They _kissed_.

That definitely wasn't supposed to happen, and she's unsure how she's supposed to feel about it. The terror is obvious, at this point, and it's overshadowing every other good feeling. She's terrified, every second. What if her mother finds out? What if someone else finds out? What if Quinn tells someone? What if Quinn hates her now, and wants nothing to do with her?

Which, really, would be doing them both a favour at this point. The less time they spend together; the better. She needs Quinn to hate her, because she's finding it increasingly difficult to keep away from her; to keep a handle on her feelings and her actions.

They kissed.

That definitely wasn't supposed to happen, and she doesn't know how to go back to before. They have to. There's no way anything can actually come from this.

So, Rachel accepts what is to be, and hides herself away in her bedroom for the rest of the weekend, which isn't all that different to what she usually does, anyway.

* * *

Rachel doesn't expect Quinn to seek her out, but she's not particularly surprised when they - miraculously - find themselves in the bathroom on the second floor the Monday after their kiss.

Because, they kissed, and Rachel has been trying desperately to keep a handle on all her conflicting feelings regarding the one thing she told herself couldn't happen.

It can't.

They can't do this.

And, yet, Rachel automatically moves towards Quinn when she's sure they're alone, and she needs to have better control than this.

She needs to touch, so she does, her left hand reaching up to cup Quinn's cheek, revelling at the smooth skin against her palm. "You're looking better," she murmurs. " _Are_ you feeling better?"

Quinn doesn't respond to the question. "I want to take you out."

"What?"

"I think we should go on a date."

Rachel's eyes widen. "Quinn?"

Quinn audibly swallows. "I'll be the first to admit I had the intention of telling you that we really can't do this, and that what happened can't ever happen again, but - " she halts, frowning slightly. "I just saw you, and all that just flew from my mind. I - I know you feel this, Rachel, and I, God, this is crazy. It's crazy, right? Am I crazy? Is this just me? I hate this feeling, but I also don't, and please say it isn't just me."

Rachel knows this is the moment she can put an end to all of this. All she has to say is that she's not feeling any of it, which is what her mother needs her to say. Hell, it's what _Quinn_ needs her to say.

Only, she can't.

"It's not just you," Rachel confesses in a whisper. "I've - I've been fighting it since we met."

Quinn looks both relieved and frightened by the revelation that she's not alone with all these feelings they both know they shouldn't be having.

"You want to go on a date?" Rachel asks.

Quinn blinks. "Yes," she says. "This weekend. You and me. In Toledo."

"Toledo?"

Quinn nods. "We can't realistically do anything in Lima," she says; "and I want it to be as authentic as we can possibly get it." She breathes out. "We should be able to do it right. We should be able to have an actual chance; to know for sure."

"Know what?"

"If this can really work," she says. "I mean, we could be really incompatible, and I think we deserve the chance to find out."

Rachel eventually agrees with a slight nod. "Okay."

"Okay?"

Rachel reaches up onto her tippy toes and presses a kiss to Quinn's cheek. "Okay, Quinn."

"This is crazy," Quinn muses, and Rachel doesn't think she has the words to contradict her.

* * *

Quinn texts her first.

It's just a simple _hi_ , and Rachel positively swoons.

This is crazy. She's honestly never felt this way before - not even about the girl back in New York - and she smiles like a schoolgirl when she receives the first text.

It's, however, the fifth text that clues her in to how serious this all is. Quinn tells her to change the passcode on her phone, and then change Quinn's contact name to that of a boy, so their conversations could possibly be explained if ever they're found.

Rachel responds with _just what do you expect we're going to be talking about, huh?_ , but does as instructed, and then feels surprisingly more secure about it. She saves Quinn as Lucas, and they've decided on a slew of other code names for the various other people in their lives.

Then, Rachel deletes those initial texts, and she starts a conversation with a boy named Lucas, and she does her level-best not to think about how much secrecy this entire this is going to require. She doesn't want this necessary lie to dirty what they're trying to do here, so she spends as little time as possible analysing it.

So much of it is going to be hidden, from everyone, and she feels this anxiety creep into her everyday life. It's worse than before, because it feels as if she reeks of it.

Sitting at dinner is excruciating and, whenever she gets asked the odd question, she panics she's going to give herself away.

She's gay.

She's always going to be.

There's a girl she likes, and now she's going to have to hide it from everyone she knows. She can't act lovesick, even if she is, and she can't talk about any of this with anyone other than Quinn and her journal - that she made sure to digitise and add a password to, given the entire New York fiasco. Her mother has no boundaries.

It's something she'll probably tell Quinn about at some point, and she wonders how the girl will take it. She finds she's curious about Quinn's own experience; about how she's come to accept that kissing girls is something she wants to do.

Speaking of.

They've kissed only once, briefly, and Rachel finds herself thinking about it more often than not. It was a special moment for them, and she really wants to kiss Quinn again. She wants to touch her and be able to look at her without worry of repercussions.

She wants far too many things, maybe, but it seems Quinn does, as well. Because, on that particular Tuesday evening, she gets a text from Lucas asking her, officially, on a date, and Rachel says yes.

The logistics of it, well, they'll worry about later.

* * *

The following days result in a Rachel Berry who is tense and fidgety. She avoids Quinn as much as she can because the girl seems to be getting far too much satisfaction about seeing her all flustered.

The texts aren't helping, either, and Rachel has half a mind to tell everyone who asks her if she's okay that there's a boy. It would be so easy; almost too easy, but she can't bring herself to do it. Pretending to be straight and unattached is much easier than pretending to be straight with an actual fake boyfriend.

Rachel wishes it were different. She wishes they lived in a world where they didn't have to hide, but they do, and Rachel is going to have to get even more used to it than she has since the move.

But, Rachel can't quite escape Quinn, who keeps smirking and winking at her whenever they catch each other's gazes. There's only so much she can take before she bursts, which is why she sends the text.

 **Rachel** : _You need to stop_.

 **Lucas** : _I'm not even doing anything_.

 **Rachel** : _You know exactly what you're doing_.

 **Lucas** : _What am I doing_?

 **Rachel:** _You don't need me to tell you_.

 **Lucas** : _I think I do_.

 **Rachel** : _Please_.

 **Rachel** : _My mother literally teaches at this school. She's a bloodhound, and she watches me like a hawk. She's bound to notice, and I really don't want to have to come up with some twisted lie about why I've been smiling like a lovestruck fool_.

Once Rachel's sent the message, she panics like crazy. She didn't mean to say that much. God, Quinn is going to be so smug about it.

First, though:

 **Lucas** : _Sorry, you're right. I'll stop_.

Then:

 **Lucas** : _Wait. Did you just say I make you smile like a lovestruck fool_?

 **Rachel** : _I'm so done with you_.

 **Lucas** : _I got told I've been smiling like the Pied Piper, so I can't say yours is worse._

 **Rachel** : _You're cute_.

 **Lucas** : _As long as you think so_.

Rachel can feel it happening with every day that passes. She's falling in love, so, so dangerously. It's an unstoppable force at this point. It was always going to happen.

Inevitable, as it were.

 **Rachel** : _What are you doing, anyway_?

 **Lucas** : _Trying to figure out a way to avoid you in the school corridors_.

 **Rachel:** _Why_?

 **Lucas** : _If I'm not allowed to stare at you in fear of giving us away, it's best I stay away. I have poor self-control._

 **Rachel** : _Yes, you do_.

 **Lucas** : _Especially when it comes to you_.

Yip.

Definitely falling in love.

* * *

When Glee Club initially started, Rachel didn't give too much thought to the fact they would actually be performing in competitions. There was the Invitational, which was a bit of a disaster, and now they have a Sectionals tournament that's threatening to be the same.

At least they have enough people to compete, what with all the new members joining.

It's been a trying time for Rachel - even if you ignore the entire Quinn situation - given that Finn's ex-girlfriend decided it prudent to join the Club after him, bringing along a few cheerleaders. They can dance and they can sing, but they're also openly hostile most of the time. She really doesn't know what it is about cheerleaders, and she makes a mental note to ask Quinn why she's such an anomaly.

It also doesn't help Rachel's plight that Finn hasn't seemed to tone down his apparent interest in her, even after she expressly told him it wasn't ever going to happen. Apparently, he thinks he can wear her down with his dedication and boyish charm.

If only he knew.

As a result, their week is filled with extra rehearsals of their set list, the group finally working together somewhat cohesively. Nothing like good competition to get a band of misfits to put aside their differences.

Rachel texts Quinn an endless number of complaints throughout the days leading up to their competition and, while Quinn laughs at her, she's also sympathetic. Apparently, leading a Nationals-winning cheerleading Squad is really just making sure the girls don't sleep with each other's boyfriends. It's deceptively difficult work.

Quinn helps keep her from strangling Finn and his football buddies, which really saves her own life in the long run. She shudders to think what would happen to her if she laid a hand on the school's star quarterback. Not that his apparent interest in her has helped with her social standing.

She's not bitter about it. She's not, because, while all this is going on, she can't help marvelling at just how good it feels to have this connection to Quinn.

Just, to have her, at all.

 **Lucas** : _Are you seriously not going to tell me what solo you're singing_?

Rachel rolls her eyes at Quinn's persistence, checking her phone during a break in rehearsals. She's a little sweaty from dancing around the stage for the past two hours, and she knows she needs to hydrate. Quinn's reminded her enough, and Rachel thinks all her worrying is cute. So, she tells her.

 **Rachel** : _You're cute_.

 **Lucas** : _I could just ask my sister, you know_?

 **Rachel** : _You could, but you won't. You want to be surprised as much as I want to surprise you_.

 **Lucas** : _And, what makes you think I'm even going to be there on Saturday, huh_?

 **Rachel** : _Let's call it a feeling I have_.

 **Lucas** : _Hmm… are you having any other feelings_?

Rachel feels herself blush, and she's thankful she's already slightly flushed from exertion. Still, she doesn't think it would take much more than a look in her direction to tell she's not talking to someone who's just a friend.

Quinn is so much more than that, even if they've been communicating this way for only a few days. It's difficult to remember what her life was like before 'Lucas' existed.

 **Rachel** : _If you must know, L, I'm having lots of feelings at present_.

 **Lucas** : _Care to share with the class_?

Rachel smiles to herself, suddenly knowing what Quinn is hoping to get out of her.

Well, Rachel isn't going to bite.

 **Rachel** : _Rage, mostly, because these supposed athletes can't seem to get the steps right. Who knew choreography was so deceptively difficult for football players_?

She has to wait a full minute before she receives a reply, and she's managed to drink half a bottle of water in that time.

 **Lucas** : _I'm also having several feelings, R. Most involve you, if you must know. Is it weird that I find myself missing you_?

And, Rachel is back to blushing. She's in the middle of her reply when she notices Sarah's approach, and she has to do all she can to school her features. She doesn't immediately put away her phone - that would be too suspicious - but she does turn her screen away and lock it as she lifts her gaze to smile at her best friend.

For a moment, she feels a flash of guilt. This is her best friend, and now she's having a secret relationship with the girl's older sister.

Are they actually going to be able to do this?

"Who you texting?" Sarah asks, almost singing as she bumps her hip against Rachel's. "I don't think I've ever seen you smile like that."

Rachel almost rolls her eyes at herself, because she's honestly pathetic. "It's nothing, really," she says. "Just my friend, Mandy, from New York, telling me about the disaster of a date her boyfriend planned for her." She laughs softly. It's not a complete lie. This did happen. Only, it was a year ago.

Sarah looks as if she believes her, her mouth opening to ask more about it, but Mr Schuester suddenly calls for their attention and Rachel breathes a sigh of relief. She's got the story on hand, sure, but she doesn't want to lie to Sarah more than she has to.

She and Quinn are already going to be doing a lot of that.

Before they get started again, she has just enough time to shoot off quick messages to Quinn, her smile threatening once more.

 **Rachel** : _It's not weird at all. I miss you, too_.

 **Rachel** : _Desperately_.

* * *

Quinn knows trying to convince Santana to watch the Glee Club's Sectionals' performance with her is futile. She could probably convince Brittany, who could get the Latina to do just about anything, but then Quinn will have to deal with the aftermath of such a thing for the rest of the week.

Which is really why Quinn ends up going with her mother. Her father, of course, is working a big case at work, so his Saturday is being spent at the office, and Judy is turning the entire thing into a girls' day.

Quinn suspects she's going to receive some kind of lecture at some point.

Maybe she needs it. Her life seems to be going wildly off script at the moment. Beyond Rachel and besides her college prospects, she's also feeling… unwell. It's her own fault, she knows, because she's been so caught up in other things that her health has taken a backseat.

She should probably get on top of that, before it makes itself known. It's honestly not fun when that happens, and she has a feeling Rachel will kill her if something were to happen to her. Again.

 _Rachel_.

She smiles to herself, just at the thought of the girl, who, in all intents and purposes, has been on her mind in some capacity since they met.

Quinn almost rolls her eyes at how terrible that first official meeting actually was. She was suitably enraged that night, and Rachel saw a side of her Quinn normally tries to keep in check. Fails, mostly, but she does try.

She's a model daughter. Rarely gets in trouble, performs well academically, participates in noteworthy extracurriculars, holds several leadership positions, and has a rather envious attendance and disciplinary record.

Still, Quinn knows none of that will mean a damn thing when they all learn she likes girls.

Well, one specific girl, to be exact.

Rachel.

Quinn smiles again, and reaches for her phone, even as she and her mother settle into their seats in the auditorium. Sarah has been rather nervous about the entire thing, having had limited performing practice as a group before, but Quinn assured her she would be great.

Rachel has no such problems.

In fact, Rachel is more worried about the others messing up. She doesn't want her solo to be the thing that has to carry them to the win, which, said by anyone else, would turn Quinn off. She's never been a fan of arrogance - it's one of the reasons she can handle Puck only in small doses - but it's different on Rachel.

It's _fact_ , and her easy confidence in her singing ability - that Quinn has only heard in bits - is very much a turn-on. Quinn won't ever admit it, of course, because she can't have it going to Rachel's head. But it's the truth, and she's going to have to deal with it.

Smiling just that bit more, Quinn pulls up Rachel's contact, dutifully saved as 'Ryan.' Apparently, if she'd been born a boy, that's what her parents would have called her. Quinn paid close attention when Rachel told her that, mainly because it was the first time she even alluded to her father.

Quinn wants to ask, of course, but she's being patient.

They're just starting out, anyway.

She likes to think they have time.

 **Quinn** : _You asked me to let you know when I get here, so, well, I'm here_.

 **Quinn** : _Hello, beautiful_.

She flushes slightly, because some of this is still so weird. Also, her mother is sitting right beside her.

Wait. Would she ever really call a 'Ryan' beautiful?

She shakes her head, trying to stop herself from overthinking it. She told herself she was in this, wholeheartedly, and she's just going to be herself.

Whoever that is.

She almost jumps when her phone vibrates in her hand, and her heart stutters. She didn't expect a reply so soon, if at all.

 **Ryan** : _Hello, you :)_

 **Ryan** : _I think I might commit murder today. Will you bail me out, because my mother sure as hell won't_?

Quinn's smile grows impossibly wider. She's never felt so impossibly _light_ in all her life, and it astounds her that it's taken this unassuming, tiny brunette to make her feel as if the great big world isn't as scary as she thought it once was.

 **Quinn** : _Please don't commit murder. How are we supposed to go on our date if you're in lockup_?

As she sends it, she can almost imagine Rachel rolling her eyes. Well.

 **Ryan** : _Is this your telling me you have a day in mind?_

 **Quinn** : _Not right now_.

 **Quinn** : _But, I will. And I'll ask you properly_.

 **Quinn** : _After you win_.

 **Ryan** : _So much belief_.

 **Quinn** : _Is it misplaced_?

 **Ryan** : _Not in the slightest._

 **Quinn** : _Good luck anyway. (Whether you need it or not.) X_

 **Ryan** : _Thank you, L :) Talk to you later Xx_

Quinn feels warmth spread through her chest, and her body relaxes into her seat.

Only, it tenses a beat later when she spots Rachel's mother. Sure, she's seen Shelby around school, and that one time at the store, but it's different now.

Shelby's her... almost-girlfriend's mother, who holds a certain power over Rachel that Quinn probably won't ever understand. That woman can _never_ know about them or their relationship. It's as simple and complex as that.

Quinn's never seen Rachel's stepfather before. She doesn't talk about him at all. He looks normal enough, and Quinn can only wonder what his take on homosexuality is.

Rachel's brothers are smaller than she imagined they were. Besides a few random anecdotes - mainly from her life back in New York - Rachel doesn't mention them all that much either. It's heartbreaking to think she has no good family stories of Lima to tell, and Quinn wishes it would get better for her.

Which, really, is so contradictory, because, if ever they're found out, Rachel could possibly kiss away the family dynamic she currently has completely.

So can Quinn.

She glances at her mother, who is scrolling through something on her own phone while they wait. She loves her mother, dearly, but even she knows Judy isn't strong enough to stand up to Russell Fabray. If and when Quinn comes out - she knows it's going to happen eventually - her father is going to _react_ , and Quinn might lose them all.

Sarah.

That would crush her.

She shakes her head, trying to clear her head. That's all a future problem. Right now, she's going to sit and enjoy her sister and her… almost-girlfriend perform, cheering them on like the cheerleader she is.

Quinn knows very little about show choir. Rachel tried to explain it to her the previous night, but Quinn still isn't sure what to expect.

It kind of blows her away.

Well, _Rachel_ does, with her rendition of _Don't Rain On My Parade_ , and Quinn can honestly feel herself falling in love just watching her. Basking in her energy and enthusiasm.

And her _voice_.

God.

Even Judy looked a little awed.

"She's really good, isn't she?" Judy asks, leaning over to whisper to her.

Quinn just nods, unable to speak.

She's sure she doesn't imagine it when Rachel shoots her a wink as she leaves the stage once the song is over, and she feels it right in her bones. Is this what love feels like? Attraction? Lust? Adoration?

All of the above.

The thoughts play on her mind for hours, through Sarah's endless bragging and through a long text conversation with Rachel.

During which she gets this text:

 **Ryan** : _Of course, I want to go out with you this Saturday_!

The way her heart leaps into her throat suddenly answers all her questions.

* * *

Rachel wrings her fingers together as her mother drives, quietly seething at the fact they're already late. Quinn was supposed to pick her up, but Rachel made the mistake of mentioning going out of town, and Shelby nearly had a conniption.

She then insisted she drive Rachel, and the teenager just said yes. Better to accept it and move on. She and Quinn are just going to have to figure it out as they go along.

The blonde actually already texted to say she was already there, and they're wasting precious time they could be spending together because her mother is making her late.

God, Rachel can't wait until she's old enough to drive herself.

Honestly, Rachel's been looking forward to spending time with Quinn all week. They've ducked and dived to work out this time just for the two of them - they really need to talk about the kiss - and now it's finally happening.

"How did you say you're getting home again?" Shelby asks as she pulls up to the specific mall in Toledo.

"I'm getting dropped off," she says, somewhat cryptically.

"Rachel."

"Mom."

Shelby sighs. "Will you text every hour?"

"Not while I'm in the movie, but yes, okay," she says, exasperated and agitated. Quinn is in there right now, and she gets to see her and look at her and maybe touch her, and her mother is choosing now to ask her about her plans.

Shelby glances at her. "You're not meeting a boy, are you?"

Rachel lets out an unexpected laugh. "No, Mom, I'm not," she says, and there's enough truth in her words and tone that Shelby believes her.

"I sincerely hope you're not meeting anyone else," she says, and there's that edge to her voice that indicates she's touching on subjects she would rather not. While it's gone largely unspoken that Rachel has liked girls before, her mother has never explicitly discussed it.

Maybe she thinks even saying it out loud is a sin.

"Mom," Rachel says, exasperated. "I told you it's just a bunch of friends from Glee."

"Fine," Shelby says, equally defeated. "Get out of here, and have fun. Behave."

Rachel rolls her eyes, and then gets out of the car, her handbag in tow, and then races into the mall towards the main fountain, where Quinn said she would be waiting.

And, she is.

Rachel sees her before Quinn notices she's arrived, and her heart leaps into her throat at the sight of the blonde sitting on the edge of the fountain and talking to a little boy who's practically vibrating with excitement in front of her.

He has Quinn's entire focus, his mother sitting a few feet away and watching on, clearly amused.

Rachel is pretty sure she's in love.

Which becomes a certainty when Quinn suddenly lifts her gaze, catches sight of her and beams this smile that makes Rachel's entire being burn with unbridled happiness. She could probably break into song at this moment.

Quinn gets to her feet when Rachel approaches, and then moves to give her a hug that probably would have lasted longer if there wasn't a toddler eagerly looking up at them.

"Rachel," Quinn says; "this is my new friend, Justin." She rests a soft hand on the boy's head. "He's been telling me about the rabbit he has in his class. What's your rabbit's name again?"

Justin jumps in place. "Hunter."

Rachel smiles widely. "That's an interesting name for a rabbit," she says.

"That's what I was telling him," Quinn says.

Justin tugs on Quinn's dress, and she looks down at him. "Is she your best friend?"

Quinn arches an eyebrow in Rachel's direction. "Something like that, yes," Quinn says vaguely.

"My best friend is Kevin Thomas," he says. "It's his birthday tomorrow."

"Oh, wow," Quinn says. "Did you get him a nice present?"

Justin is about to respond, but his mother drops into the conversation, smiling apologetically. "Is he bothering you?" she asks.

"Oh, no, Ma'am," Quinn says, smiling easily. "He's fine."

She settles slightly. "He's very excitable, and he seems to have taken a liking to you, uh..."

"Quinn," she says; "and this is Rachel."

"It's nice to meet you both," the woman says. "Thank you for taking the time to talk to him. Not many people have the patience for a conversation with a four-year-old."

Quinn laughs softly. "I'm pretty sure my sister is a four-your-old in a sixteen-year-old's body, so I think I have enough experience."

They share a laugh, and then Quinn carefully ends the conversation, bending to bid her new friend goodbye and getting a bruising hug in return.

Rachel watches it all, wondering where the HBIC has suddenly disappeared to. She has a fleeting thought about Quinn as a mother, and her heart rate picks up all over again. She doesn't think it's ever reached a normal rate in Quinn's presence, if she's being honest.

Justin gets dragged away by his mother first, and Quinn turns to look at Rachel, smiling softly.

"Hey, you," Quinn whispers, her hands behind her back and her eyes a little mischievous.

"Hi," Rachel breathes back.

"You're here," Quinn says, taking a small step forward.

"I'm here."

Quinn wants to touch, but she keeps her hands to herself, unsure if Rachel will even want her to. "Are you ready?"

Rachel raises her eyebrows. "For what exactly?"

Quinn's eyes say _Everything_ , but her mouth says, "The greatest night of your life."

"Oh, yeah?"

Quinn steps even closer, and then bravely slips her hand into Rachel's, squeezing it gently. "Do you know why it's going to be great?"

"Because I'm with you?"

"Because _I'm_ with _you_ ," Quinn says, and then does the thing and leans in to kiss Rachel's cheek.

Rachel sucks in a breath at the contact, and her heart skips several beats. "I'm so glad we're doing this," she says.

"What are we doing?" Quinn asks, all innocence.

Rachel squeezes her fingers. "What _are_ we doing?"

Quinn tugs on her hand to get them moving, but eventually releases it as she leads the way out the back of the mall towards what she knows is the miniature golf course. She almost rolls her eyes at how cliché it all is, but she stops herself when Rachel lets out an excited squeal.

Oh.

 _That's_ why she's doing this.

Quinn takes the lead, and Rachel allows her to, quietly marvelling at the way she handles getting their tickets and equipment. She's wearing a blue dress - Rachel likes the way she looks in blue - with her black Chucks and a white Biker jacket that Rachel wants to crawl into _with_ her.

Once she's got everything, Quinn links her arm with Rachel's and leads the way to the first hole.

"You should know I'm very good at this," Rachel says.

"Oh?"

Rachel smiles innocently. "Yip."

"Care for a wager then, Miss Berry?"

Rachel perks up. "Colour me interested, Fabray," she says. "What did you have in mind?"

"I have to think about it."

"Oh, don't do that," Rachel says. "You know exactly what you want from me."

"I do," Quinn allows. "I'm getting it right now."

"Hmm?"

"I get to spend time with you, uninterrupted and without consequence, and I get to compliment you and look at you with all the wonder I feel, and I - "

"Quinn?"

"Hmm?"

"I really like you."

Quinn's mouth slams shut, and her eyes widen.

"Like, a lot," Rachel adds. "Definitely more than I should, given all our circumstances."

Slowly, a smile spreads across Quinn's face. "You're sure about all of this, aren't you?"

"Very."

"I'm a bitch, sometimes, you know," Quinn says. "I'm moody and I'm irritable and I'm... sick, as you also know. I'm older than you, and I'm off to college in a few months, and I don't even know how to be out or if my family will even be okay with it. I don't know if - "

"Quinn?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm sure," she says. "I'm sure about you and about us, and I want to be with you," she says. "We can figure out everything else as it comes, okay?"

Quinn just looks at her, searching her face for anything and everything; studying her expression for truths and untruths. "You want to be with me?"

"Right now, I'd like nothing more."

Quinn smiles, her eyes glinting. "Ready to wager, then?"

"Let's hear it."

"If you win, you get me," Quinn says.

"That's awfully conceited of you, don't you think?"

Quinn ignores her. "And, if I win, well, then, I get you."

"That sounds like a win-win for both of us," Rachel says. "Are we really just playing for pride here?"

"Don't you want to be the one who gets to say you made it official?"

"I don't have to win at miniature golf for that," Rachel says, stepping into Quinn's personal space. "Quinn Fabray, will you be my girlfriend?"

Quinn sucks in a surprised breath, but recovers quickly enough. "Beat me and find out," she says quickly, and then skips away, giggling softly.

Rachel watches her go with affectionate eyes, and she can't help thinking about just how unimportant the rest of the great big world is in this moment.

It's just Quinn, and Rachel is perfectly fine with that.

* * *

Rachel wins, and she's not entirely convinced Quinn didn't actually _let_ her. Quinn might be a creative genius, but she's extremely gifted when it comes to... athletic things.

Rachel can't see miniature golf being any different, so she eyes Quinn with a bit of suspicion when she pouts and sulks like a complete professional.

Rachel imagines reaching for Quinn's hand when they're leaving, carefully linking their fingers and quietly musing over how perfect it would feel, but she's scared. They can get away with acting affectionate, sure, but prolonged handholding can be explained in only one way.

"Yes," Quinn suddenly says.

Rachel glances at her. "Hmm?"

"The answer to your question, yes, I'll be your girlfriend," she says, keeping her eyes focused forward as they move towards the entrance to the mall.

Rachel doesn't even know how to respond to that.

Quinn, mercifully, moves them along. "I want to suggest sushi, but I intend to kiss you at some point this evening, and I'd rather not have fishy breath."

Well.

Rachel brings them both to a stop, tugging on her wrist and pulling them completely out of sight and into a side alley beside the building, just hidden from view.

Quinn has only a moment to look adorably confused before Rachel is fisting her biker jacket and bringing her closer, casually reaching up to press a chaste kiss to smiling lips.

Rachel doesn't linger, as much as she wants to, because they are in semi-public and someone _could_ see them, and this is probably the only opportunity they'll get for this kind of thing before they're inside with the masses.

Quinn offers her a timid smile when they break apart, and her insides do somersaults. "Did I tell you how glad I am you're here?"

Rachel kisses her again, and this one is less than chaste. She immediately sinks into it, and Quinn steps forward and forward until Rachel's back is pressed against the wall, slightly hidden by the door, and they really should stop.

Like, now.

Right now.

Now.

The kiss does end eventually, and both of them are smiling widely, flushed, with eyes slightly dazed and unfocused.

"You're beautiful," Quinn says.

Rachel flushes under her heated gaze. "I'm also starving."

Quinn smiles softly. "Sushi okay? I promise I'll eat lots of mints afterwards."

At Rachel's nod, Quinn links the fingers of her left hand with Rachel's right for a quick squeeze, and then she leads the way back into the mall's main building. There are a handful of restaurants from which to choose, but Quinn intends to pull out all the stops. She can definitely afford it.

Russell's paying, anyway.

She also really wants Rachel to remember this date as being special. She wants to spoil her in all the ways she'd want to if it were the other way around.

If Rachel were the older one.

If this were Rachel's date.

Her brain won't stop her from thinking 'if Rachel were a boy,' and she hates herself just a little bit for it. They're here, together, on a date, risking everything, because the very truth is that neither of them _is_ a boy.

Quinn shakes her head, trying to clear it of those thoughts. She's here with Rachel, and she plans to enjoy every moment of it.

And, for the most part, she succeeds.

The only problem is that she can't quite shake the feeling that they won't just be able to _do_ this. Once they leave this place - this cocoon - they're going to have to go back to hiding. It'll be even more stressful, now that they actually have something tangible to protect.

They're in a relationship. Rachel is her girlfriend. That's not something to be taken lightly, and Quinn plans to carry the weight of it with all the severity it deserves.

"Oh."

Quinn looks just in time to see Rachel's California Roll slip from her chopsticks and land back in her little bowl of soy sauce, creating a little splash. Quinn lets out a laugh at the look of surprise on her face, and she feels something very significant shift in her chest.

There's no going back now.

Not that she'd even want to.

"Pretend you didn't see that," Rachel says, flushing instantly.

Quinn's smile widens, and she surprises them both by leaning across the table and pressing a chaste kiss to Rachel's cheek. When she pulls back, Rachel's expression has morphed into something pleased. "Didn't see what?" Quinn asks, smirking slightly.

Rachel shakes her head. "Why do I get the feeling I'm in for it with you?"

"That's because you are," Quinn says, unapologetic.

Rachel wants to kiss her again, but she refrains, and then attempts to rescue what's left of her sushi roll. She has to abandon her chopsticks and use a fork to retrieve it, and it tastes a little bitter once she's got the pieces in her mouth.

It's worth it to see the amused look on Quinn's gorgeous face.

Rachel thought she would be nervous, rambling and tripping over herself, but she's not. Maybe it's because she knows how Quinn feels about her, and they're both willing to try this. Rather, she feels settled and relaxed and happy.

Of course, she knows it won't last, but she's ready to see how this goes. Even if she's going to have to turn off her feelings when she steps through the front door of her house later.

"My favourite is the prawn fashion sandwich," Quinn says after a moment. "But, God, sometimes they're so ridiculous to eat." She looks helplessly at the sushi pinched between her chopsticks. "A little too big to eat whole, and entirely too difficult to slice in half, even with teeth."

"Quite the conundrum," Rachel comments.

Quinn glances at her. "Are you laughing at me?"

Rachel shakes her head. "I would never."

"You're totally laughing at me," she points out, exaggerating a pout. "You're hurting my feelings here, Berry."

Rachel's smile is wide and easy. "Quinn," she says.

Quinn sobers. "Yeah?"

"This is the greatest night of my life."

Quinn's eyes widen. "Oh, yeah?"

Rachel nods. "Hands down."

Quinn smiles this soft smile that stills Rachel's heart. "You don't know how happy it makes me to hear that," she says. "I've been thinking about this night a lot. I didn't want you to regret taking this chance with me."

Rachel watches her carefully, noticing the nerves for the first time. Quinn isn't usually fidgety, but she fidgets now, and Rachel feels her heart swell at the idea Quinn was so worried about how well this night would go.

Quinn leans forward slightly. "Though, you should know the night isn't anywhere near over."

Rachel blinks. "Oh?"

Quinn's smile turns secretive. "I have more planned."

"It isn't actually a movie, is it?" she asks. "Because I just told that to my mother as an excuse."

Quinn shifts in her seat. "Not a movie," she says. "Though, we should at least read the synopsis on whatever movie's supposedly playing in case she asks about it."

Rachel nods, taking note of yet another way Quinn is prepared for all of this.

Quinn leans forward again, resting her elbows on the table. "Can I tell you something?"

"Of course."

Quinn drops her gaze. "I - I have no idea what I'm doing," she confesses. "With this. With you. All I really know is I'm done fighting it, and I don't really care what that means for the future." She sighs. "Santana's been helping me with the whole secrecy stuff. Don't worry, she doesn't know about us. It's just that I know nothing about being in a secret relationship, but she does, and she's been giving me advice. Because, God, I don't even want to think about what'll happen if we're caught."

Rachel actually shudders at the thought.

"I - I have to protect you as much as I have to myself," Quinn says. "So, this is my vow, Rachel. I promise I will do everything I possibly can to keep you safe. From our school. From my family. Fuck, even from your mother. Okay?"

Rachel feels tears pool in her eyes.

"I promise," Quinn says. "Whatever happens, it's - "

"It's you and me," Rachel says, finishing for her.

Quinn puffs out her cheeks. "Not quite what I was going to say, but we'll go with that."

Rachel giggles. "Silly Quinn."

"I mean it," Quinn says, suddenly serious again. "This - this isn't temporary for me, Rachel. _You_ aren't temporary. I wouldn't be here if you were."

And, the tears are back. She almost wants to tell Quinn she loves her right here right now, but even she knows that's too soon. So, she rather reaches for Quinn's closest hand and vows never to let go.

* * *

"I promise, too."

Quinn looks up from where she's reading the back of the book in her hand and smiles at Rachel. "Excuse me?"

"Your promise to me," Rachel says, stepping into Quinn's personal space. "I want to make the same promise to you."

Quinn drops the book to her side, her hands hanging limp. "That's not necessary."

"It is," Rachel insists. "I don't want you to think I'm not as invested in this as you are. Nobody can find out. Especially not my mother."

"Or my father," Quinn mutters.

"She'll - she'll do something crazy, Quinn," she says. "I mean, the last time she caught me with a girl, she moved us to another state."

Quinn shifts uncomfortably.

Rachel blinks, suddenly confused about what she's said to garner that reaction.

Quinn clears her throat. "So, you've known for a while?"

She nods. "Sometimes, I feel as if I've always known," she admits. "I didn't really recognise it for what it was until I just did."

"Because of a girl," Quinn finds herself saying.

Rachel studies her face for a moment, and then she smiles. "Quinn, are you jealous?"

Quinn's brow furrows. "No," she says.

"God, you are," Rachel says. "That's so cute."

Quinn turns away then, replacing the book in her hand on the shelf. She breathes in and out, trying to keep a handle on her thoughts. "I haven't always known," she says quietly. "I dated boys all freshmen and sophomore year, but none of them ever worked out. It wasn't until that summer that I figured out why." She glances at Rachel. "Apparently, I have a thing for tiny brunettes."

Rachel smiles, despite herself.

Quinn looks down. "You're the first girl I've kissed, though," she says. "I guess I..." she trails off, suddenly feeling childish.

Rachel's features soften, understanding settling in. She steps even closer to Quinn, her right hand reaching out to touch her soft hair. "You're not the first girl I've kissed," she says, telling the simple truth. "But, I guess I'm hoping you'll be the last."

Quinn chuckles her eyes darting around to make sure nobody is in the aisle with them. "God, that was awful," she murmurs, and then closes the distance between them, her lips seeking and finding Rachel's. She doesn't intend for them to end up making out between the shelves of this particular bookstore, but that's what ends up happening.

Rachel's just relieved she's the one to bring them back to reality before they get kicked out by a worker or lectured by some crusader mother. "Are you buying that book?" Rachel asks, breathless and a little dazed.

Quinn sighs happily. "Nope," she says. "Now, we're going to get ice cream."

"Are you sure?"

"I was just looking," she says. "I like books. A lot."

"I think I gathered from your bedroom."

Quinn grins. "I knew you were checking it out."

Rachel takes a small step back and gives Quinn a very deliberate once-over. "Your bedroom isn't the only thing I was checking out."

Quinn reclaims the space between them. "That was so much better," she says, and then kisses her again. Slowly. Deeply.

Rachel keeps her eyes closed when they break apart. "You mentioned something about ice cream?" she murmurs.

Quinn presses a last kiss to Rachel's nose, and then takes hold of her wrist to lead her out of the store. It's what they've been doing since they finished dinner: just walking around and browsing the stores. They spent about twenty minutes in the pet store, and then another twenty in the costume store.

Quinn would love to live this life.

With Rachel.

Free.

She sighs.

One day.

"There's this place that sells diabetic ice cream," Quinn says. "It's only chocolate and hazelnut, which are both flavours I don't particularly like, but it's sugar-free, so that's awesome."

Rachel watches her as they walk, hands constantly brushing. She's curious about Quinn's illness, but she's never had the opportunity to ask before. It seems serious, but not as serious as some of the research she's already done. From what she's been able to surmise, Quinn doesn't use an insulin pump, but she does take injections.

"What happens if you eat ice cream that's not sugarless?" Rachel asks.

Quinn licks her lips. "It'll affect my blood glucose level," she says. "I can get headaches, get dizzy if the level rises too high."

"Could you pass out?"

"If I eat enough, who knows?" she says with a shrug. "Sugar is like poison to my body. I try to avoid it as much as possible."

"But, other stuff affects it as well?"

"Making sure I actually eat is important," Quinn says, her voice dropping in volume. "Otherwise my glucose can drop too low."

Rachel licks her lips, and then says, "You're not very good at the whole eating thing, are you?"

Quinn's entire body tenses for a moment, but she eventually relaxes. "I'm not," she admits. "I - I was overweight as a child, and I was teased about it until I decided to do something about it. I guess I've developed a complex about it, and it manifests the most severely in what I eat."

Rachel realises it's probably more complicated than that, but this is a little too much seriousness for a first date. So, she reaches up to kiss Quinn's cheek, and then allows herself to be led.

The ice cream parlour is designed like an old school diner, and Rachel loves it from the second they walk in. Quinn tugs her towards the front counter, where there's a wide selection of ice cream flavours on display.

"Whoa," Rachel says.

"It's pretty, isn't it?" Quinn says.

"I don't do well with too many choices, Quinn," Rachel tells her. "We could be here all night."

"We both have curfews," Quinn reminds her. "The good thing is that they allow you to try them before you decide."

Rachel's eyes widen. "You definitely shouldn't have told me that."

Quinn moves to stand behind her, entirely too close to her. "Pick a flavour," she says. "I'll let you know when we have to leave."

Rachel leans back, settling against Quinn's body and marvelling at how easy this is. Just like this. The two of them.

Rachel doesn't even see the rest of the people in the shop, and she thinks that makes all the difference. So, she enjoys every second of it, casually leaning against Quinn as she tries eight different flavours before she makes a decision. Quinn even risks trying the bubblegum flavour off Rachel's spoon.

Quinn pays for her double-scoop cone, and then slowly says, "We should probably start on our way."

Rachel has the sudden urge to argue that they should stay, but she knows Quinn is right. Somebody has to be the responsible one.

Quinn throws her single-scoop sugarless chocolate cone away halfway through, and Rachel doesn't say anything about it. She just keeps her arm linked with Quinn's and falls deeper in love.

Quinn opens the door for her when they get to the car, kisses her cheek, and then helps her inside. It's swoon-worthy, so Rachel does.

 _And_ then she kisses her soundly when she gets into the driver's seat.

Quinn's smile is serene when they break apart, and it takes her a full minute to turn the ignition and get them on their way.

Rachel enjoys the silence, slowly eating her ice cream, right until the moment Quinn says, "Look up the movie, Rachel."

Suddenly, her appetite for her ice cream evaporates. With little hesitance, she does just that, quietly reading out loud, just in case Quinn has to answer some questions with her friends.

"It sounds awful," Quinn eventually says. "We're never watching that movie."

"But it has a brunette," Rachel teases.

Quinn fakes a laugh, and then very carefully says, "I think I'm sorted for a while, thank you very much."

"Just a while?"

Quinn glances at her for a moment. "She's talking about forever."

"And you?"

Quinn smiles softly. "I'm starting to get the feeling forever wouldn't be long enough."

Yip.

Rachel's definitely in love.

* * *

The aftermath of the date is... surprising, in the fact very little actually changes. Rachel still has a persistent mother, who seemed to believe her tale about meeting her friends for a movie. She made Quinn drop her off around the block, just in case her crazy mother was on the lookout.

They didn't risk a kiss in Rachel's neighbourhood, but Quinn kept hold of her hand while Rachel thanked her for the greatest night of her life, told her she was serious about their relationship, and then quietly wished her goodnight.

Rachel hasn't been alone with her since, which is horrible, but it's probably necessary, because all Rachel really wants to do is hold her and touch her and kiss her.

So, it's best they're not alone.

The week following their date is filled with Glee rehearsals and endless studying for their end of semester exams. Rachel also has to decide what she wants to do for her birthday, which her mother has been nagging her about. If anything, she'd rather just have the Glee Club over for an evening or something.

Small.

Insignificant.

She doesn't want anything big at all. She doesn't even really want to _do_ anything. Not if Quinn won't be able to be there.

Though, it isn't as if she's even told Quinn her birthday is coming up. They talk about a lot of other things, like the beauty of _Lego_ , Harry Potter's love life and what are the best musicals of all time.

Priorities.

But, in hindsight, she should know withholding such information is always going to come back to bite her in the ass. Which it does, when Quinn manages to corner her in the bathroom during lunch on Thursday, her eyes sharp and focused.

"What's this I hear about your birthday being on Sunday?"

Rachel is stumped for a moment, because this is the first time she's physically talking to Quinn since their date. Gosh, it's so much better than using the screen of her phone.

"Rachel," Quinn says. "It's your birthday on Sunday. Why didn't you tell me?"

Rachel clears her throat. "It's not important," she says. "I mean, everyone has exams next week, and I don't usually make a big deal out of it. It's just a day, Quinn."

"But, it's the day you were born," Quinn points out. "The day my life changed. I think that's worth celebrating."

"And, what could we possibly do?" she asks, genuinely curious. "I mean, seriously? Sarah has her car now, and how exactly do you explain your just having an interest in my stupid birthday?"

Quinn regards her carefully, and then sighs. "I'll think of something," she says. "But, it's your birthday, and it deserves to be more than just a day. You deserve more than that, okay, and I intend to spoil you. Even if it has to be from afar."

"Quinn."

Quinn closes the space between them in a few quick strides and pulls Rachel into a tight hug. "God, I've missed you," she murmurs, and Rachel loves her.

She loves her in that dangerous way.

Quinn doesn't let go for the longest time, holding on for minutes on end. It baffles Rachel that they're not interrupted, but she's not about to complain. Especially not when Quinn kisses her softly and then pulls back, looking slightly unsure.

"I haven't changed my mind," Rachel assures her. "By all means, Quinn, you can go on kissing me."

So, Quinn does, only it doesn't last nearly long enough for Rachel, and she releases a disappointed sound that makes Quinn smile when she pulls away.

"I have to get to class," Quinn says. "I'm writing next period."

Rachel can't stop her pout, which prompts Quinn to kiss it away. She takes note of the response for future reference. Because this will definitely be happening again, as soon as possible, if she has any say in it.

"I have to go," Quinn says.

"Nobody's stopping you," Rachel points out.

Quinn laughs softly before kissing her one last time. "Text me later, okay? I'm not done berating you for not telling me it's your birthday."

Rachel smiles innocently, forcing herself to drop her hands to stop from touching Quinn.

"I had to find out from my sister."

Rachel shrugs now. "Sarah wasn't supposed to tell anyone."

"I'm not just anyone," Quinn says.

"That's very true," Rachel agrees, sounding slightly sombre.

Quinn sighs. "Just, text me," she says, and then she slips out of the bathroom as quickly as she appeared.

* * *

 **Rachel** : _Look, I'm texting you_.

 **Lucas** : _You think you're funny, don't you_?

 **Rachel** : _You think I'm funny, too_.

 **Lucas** : _Keep telling yourself that_.

 **Rachel** : _I will, thank you very much_.

 **Lucas** : _I want to take you out. Think we can swing it this weekend_?

Rachel sighs, absently rolling onto her side on her bed. She curls into a small ball and tries not to think too hard about the logistics of trying to spend secret time with none other than the most popular girl in school.

 **Rachel** : _That's two weekends in a row, L. Even my mother knows I don't have that good a social life_.

 **Lucas** : _Saturday_.

 **Lucas** : _We can just go for a drive or something. I just want to see you, that's all_.

 **Rachel** : _It's Winter Break in a week_.

 **Lucas** : _It's your birthday in three days_.

 **Rachel** : _What is your obsession with my birthday_?

 **Lucas** : _Let me take you out and I promise I'll explain_.

It might all end in disaster, but Rachel always knew she was going to say yes.

 **Rachel** : _Noon. Saturday. Please don't do anything overboard_.

 **Lucas** : _Me? Go overboard? I resent that_.

 **Rachel** : _I'm done texting you now_.

 **Lucas** : _I should get back to studying, anyway. Text you later._

 **Rachel** : _Later Xx_


	6. Chapter 6

**VI**

The nerves kick in a little after eleven o'clock on Saturday. Rachel might be training to be a professional actress, but she's always struggled with lying to her mother. It's not something that sits well with her, but she reasons it's become a necessity now that she's embraced this entire side of her life.

This part of her that finally makes her feel _whole_.

Quinn.

Rachel stays safely tucked away in her bedroom until she gets a text from Quinn saying she's parked around the block. Rachel feels the thrill and apprehension, excitement and nervousness take hold of her, and it takes her a full minute to work up the nerve to leave her bedroom.

But, she does, walking purposefully down the stairs and straight out the door. She'll deal with her mother later, if she has to. Right now, she's going to see Quinn, and she can't hold back her smile at merely the thought.

Her smile grows impossibly wider when she spots Quinn's car, this fancy red thing she doesn't even know the name of. The passenger door is unlocked, and she immediately gets in, breathing a sigh of relief once she's safely in the heated car.

Quinn smiles softly, murmurs a quiet greeting, and then leans over to kiss her sweetly. Rachel accepts it for what it is, hoping they're hidden behind the tinted windows.

"Hi," Quinn murmurs.

Rachel returns her smile. "Hi, you."

Quinn kisses her again, and then shifts the car into gear and takes off. Rachel fiddles with the radio, trying to find a suitable channel. When she's dissatisfied with her options, she switches to Quinn's CD shuttle.

"That's better," she concludes when some Parachute comes on.

Quinn chuckles softly. "You're cute."

Rachel blushes. "So... where are you taking me?"

"Nowhere," Quinn says. "We're just going to drive around. I just want to spend time with you, Rachel. We don't even have to be doing anything."

She presses her lips together. "That's great, Quinn, but how exactly am I supposed to kiss you if you're driving?"

Quinn laughs softly. "Is that what you want your birthday present to be?"

"Did you actually get me something?"

"Of course."

Rachel smiles. "Is it you?"

"It doesn't have to be your birthday for you to have me, Rach," she says, and Rachel has to resist the urge to lean over and kiss her senseless. "What are you doing for your birthday, anyway?"

Rachel rolls her eyes. "My mother invited the Glee Club over for a barbecue," she says.

Quinn glances at her. "The entire Glee Club?"

Rachel raises her eyebrows. "As far as I know, why? Why that tone?"

"Just, isn't, you know..." she trails off.

Rachel spends a moment thinking about it, and then giggles when she figures it out. "Are you worried about Finn?"

"No," Quinn answers quickly. Too quickly, really.

Rachel's features soften. "Finn is going to be there," she says. "But, you should really know by now that you have nothing to worry about."

"I'm not worried," Quinn says, her voice steady, and Rachel believes her. "Just, you know, I don't want you to be uncomfortable, or whatever."

Rachel smiles at her, trying for reassurance. "Quinn, you know this wouldn't be the first time I interact with him, right? We have Glee together several times a week."

Quinn lets out a breath. "I'm aware, yes."

Rachel reaches out to touch her, gently resting a hand on her forearm. It's over her coat, but she's convinced she can still feel the heat of Quinn's skin. Suddenly, all she wants is to be touching her. "He's too tall for me, remember?"

"And, I'm not?"

"You're perfect."

Quinn glances at her, her cheeks a little pink. "Sorry," she says. "I just - I guess I'm…" she trails off, unsure how to continue.

"You do know I'm gay, right?"

Quinn chuckles.

"As in, I like girls," Rachel clarifies. "One specific one, to be perfectly clear. She's being a bit of a nutcase at the moment, but she's a real looker."

Quinn's expected amusement is rather replaced by thoughtfulness, and Rachel waits patiently. "I'm older than you," she says, blinking a few times. "It almost feels as if I should be more… okay with this entire thing than you are, but I'm not."

Rachel frowns. "Are you referring to the entire gay thing?"

Quinn nods.

"I don't think it has anything to do with age, Quinn," she says. "People can stumble through life without actually acknowledging their sexuality, and there's no rulebook on how you're supposed to handle it. I've just had longer to come to terms with it. Our ages have nothing to do with it."

Quinn sighs. "I'm not going to go into some gay panic," she informs her; "if you were worried about that."

"I wasn't," Rachel assures her, even though there's a part of her that's suddenly certain she's going to have to be reassuring Quinn quite a lot as they settle into this new relationship. It's obvious Quinn wants this, but they both have their reasons for why they were fighting it in the first place.

Sometimes, they're difficult to ignore.

Maybe this is the way Rachel is supposed to be the older one. Maybe that's what Quinn is trying to ask of her without actually asking. Somehow, they're going to have to work together to adjust to their new reality.

Rachel waits until Quinn comes to a standstill at a stop sign to lean over and kiss her cheek. "You know, I can't think of a better way to spend the day before my birthday."

Quinn rolls her eyes. "I thought you didn't even care about your birthday."

"But, you clearly do," she points out. "Why is that?"

"It's _your_ birthday," Quinn simply says, as if it's a suitable answer to Rachel's question. "It's the first one we get to spend together. It has to be special." She pauses. "I mean, what kind of girlfriend would I be if I _didn't_ do something special for you? Even if all we're doing is going for a drive together?"

"It's already the greatest birthday I've ever had," Rachel tells her, and it's actually the truth. Looking back on her almost-sixteen years of life, she has memories of birthday parties that usually ended in disaster, and she remembers how her mother used to censor her friendships.

New York is progressive, apparently, but Shelby Corcoran isn't. Rachel has always wondered about the true reasons about her hatred. Shelby constantly says it's wrong and disgusting and all those other things that will probably send her to Hell, but Rachel _knows_ it's to do with her father. Hiram Berry, who left in such mysterious circumstances, that the only story Rachel even knows comes from her mother.

She has nothing else to believe. Just that her father was there one day, and then he wasn't, and he never even tried to take her with him.

Apparently, he has other children to care for now. She hasn't seen or heard from him since she was six years old, and what she's learned in the years since doesn't even make her _want_ to.

She tries not to be bitter about it, but she is. He let her go, signing all the necessary papers, and Rachel actually goes through days where she hates both her parents.

She'll tell Quinn all of this at some point, but that's not today.

Quinn glances at her. "You actually mean that, don't you?"

Rachel's smile is a little sad, but she still says, "You make me very happy, Quinn Fabray."

Quinn blushes, dark and pretty. "You make me very happy, too, Rachel Berry."

Rachel shakes her head, her heart fluttering, because she's never felt any of this before. Not for any other girl she met in New York. Nobody.

Quinn is someone special, and she almost laughs at the fact her mother is the one who brought her to this place, where she's found this girl, who she's pretty certain she's already in love with.

She wouldn't even be able to explain how that happened.

"So, like I said: I got you something," Quinn says. "Just reach into the backseat. It should be somewhere there."

Rachel doesn't move. "You know you didn't have to," she says.

"Maybe," Quinn says. "I wanted to, though."

"What is it?"

Quinn arches an eyebrow. "Do you really think I would just tell you?"

"I could convince you." She really doesn't mean for it to come out as suggestive as it does. She meant, you know, she could probably talk her into submission.

Though, kissing sounds so much better.

Quinn blushes again - has she even stopped? "Just open your damn present, Berry," she says.

Rachel laughs softly, and then turns to look in the backseat, gasping at the sight before her. "Quinn, what is that?"

Quinn remains silent, carefully taking a bend.

"Quinn?"

"Open it."

"The box is huge."

"What makes you think it's a box?"

"It's shaped like a box," she says. "I like the wrapping paper, by the way. Did you wrap it in your car? It's a little untidy."

Quinn growls softly. "We're going to end up back at your house before you even open it, at this rate."

Rachel glances at her, almost tells her she loves her, decides against it, and then reaches for the box, grunting at the weight. "Baby, what _is_ this?"

This time, Quinn actually gasps.

"What?"

Quinn shakes her head. "Nothing," she says. "Just, you know, I like you, is all."

Rachel feels her chest expand at the sound of those words. "I like you, too," she says, and she'll sing it for the world to hear if she could.

"Now, please open your present before I die of old age or something."

Rachel just chuckles to herself, and then starts on the wrapping. It's when she's got her fingers slipped under the tape that she freezes. "I called you 'baby.'"

Quinn looks at her. "You did."

"Is that okay?"

"Yeah," she breathes. "It is. I like it."

"Okay," she says, and then she opens the present, gasping when she reveals it. She just stares, dumbfounded, for a long moment, before she looks at Quinn, feeling oddly emotional.

Quinn looks so nervous; it's actually the most adorable thing Rachel has ever seen.

"You listened," Rachel murmurs.

Quinn blinks. "Of course, Rach," she says. "I've always listened."

Rachel runs a finger over the box, absently remembering a brief conversation they shared even before they started dating. Before Rachel was even aware Quinn _could_ like her back.

They'd been in the kitchen of the Fabray home, just the two of them. Judy was out and Sarah was in the bathroom - or just trying to avoid doing homework. Quinn asked her if she wanted some coffee, as she was making some for herself.

"I don't really drink coffee," she'd told her.

"Oh." Quinn blinked. "What do you drink?"

"I, uh, like tea," she remembers saying. "And smoothies."

"Smoothies?"

"I love them," she said. "Though, our blender broke during the move and we haven't managed to get a new one yet."

"Damn," Quinn said. Then: "We have a blender. Would you like me to make you one?"

Rachel was so startled by the offer that she doesn't remember responding, if she even did. But, then, Sarah came back, and then Quinn disappeared from the kitchen with her coffee and sans another word.

And, now, she has a high-end _Vitamix_ blender sitting in her lap.

"Quinn," she says. "This must have cost a fortune."

Quinn shrugs. "As long as you like it."

"I love it," she says, and she means it. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Rachel."

Rachel smiles at her for a moment, before it transforms into a bit of a smirk. "You know, this is quite the domestic gift."

Quinn laughs. "Oh, yeah, I definitely expect you to bring it with you when we move in together."

" _When_?"

Quinn flushes instantly, saying nothing.

Rachel waits until they're at another standstill to reach over and kiss Quinn's cheek again. She lingers for a long moment, unable to stop herself from wishing things were different; that their lives were easier.

Maybe, she just wishes she were braver.

Rachel inhales deeply, and then pulls back quite suddenly, her cheeks flaming with mortification at what she's just done.

"Did you just sniff me?" Quinn asks.

Rachel shakes her head. "Don't."

Quinn looks amused. "I'm hoping I smell good," she says.

"Seriously, shut up."

Quinn just smiles even wider. "You're adorable."

Rachel shakes her head, pouting all the while.

"You're not helping yourself there," Quinn observes. "I would take a picture if I could." She blinks. "Though, I don't think it's wise to have pictures of each other on our phones."

Rachel's pout intensifies, and she makes a mental note to engineer some way to get a picture of Quinn on her phone.

She can only stalk the girl's social media so many times.

So, Rachel doesn't comment on Quinn's observation. She's right, obviously, but it's just another thing about their lives she hates.

"You bought me a blender," Rachel says.

Quinn glances at her, gauging her response. "If it makes you feel better, it could be _our_ blender, because I definitely expect smoothies, too."

Rachel doesn't think too much about the logistics of that, but she smiles. "Any favourite flavours?"

Quinn winces.

"What?"

"I should probably confess something," she says.

Rachel tries not to look too worried. "Okay...?"

Quinn ducks her head slightly. "I don't like berries."

"Excuse me?"

"Like, at all," Quinn elaborates. "Strawberries, even though they're not technically a berry, and blueberries, cranberries, raspberries, cherries… I just can't handle them."

Rachel just stares at her for a moment, and then she bursts out laughing. "Oh, my God, Quinn," she says, almost wheezing. "That's hilarious."

Quinn grins a little lopsidedly, and Rachel swears she sees a dimple that wasn't there before. "I thought you'd find it funny," she says.

Rachel's laughter tapers off eventually, and she feels so light and happy.

"Though," Quinn murmurs; "it seems there's one specific Berry I'm particularly fond of."

God, Rachel really wants to kiss her. She reaches out to run her fingers over Quinn's hand, loving the feel of her skin. "Best. Birthday. Ever."

They drive around for another half hour, just talking about nothing important and listening to music. It's so easy with Quinn, and Rachel can only marvel at how she survived without all of this.

Without Quinn.

Honestly, what was she doing with her life before her? Where was her happiness? Where was joy? Because, as far as Rachel is concerned, it all lies with Quinn Fabray?

"What are you doing for the rest of the day?" Rachel asks when she notices the car heading back towards her suburb.

"Study session at Santana's house," Quinn says. "Britt needs a lot of help, and Puck's World Geography is borderline terrible."

Rachel presses her lips together. "Can I ask?"

"About?"

"You and Puck."

Quinn hesitates. "You can ask, yes," she says.

"Quinn?"

"He's just my friend," Quinn says. "My first kiss, too," she adds. "We were twelve and we were playing Spin The Bottle, and yeah. It was weird. I've always just seen him one way."

"But he sees you another way?"

"Sometimes," she says. "When he's feeling nostalgic for a relationship, I think so, but he's too much of a player for that." She frowns. "I don't think he's ready to settle or commit to be faithful, even if he can convince himself he wants to be."

Rachel nods, showing she's following. It doesn't really settle her worries, but she trusts Quinn the way she expects to be trusted about Finn.

"Does he know about you?" Rachel asks.

"No," she says. "If anyone's going to know first, it'll probably be Santana."

"She doesn't yet know?"

"No," Quinn says. "You're the only person who knows."

"Whoa."

"Who knows about you?"

Rachel sighs. "My mom, even though she wishes she didn't. Probably my stepfather, and a few of my friends from New York."

"Do you still talk to them?"

"Not really," Rachel answers, and it pains her to say. "It... hurts a little too much, and I don't know what to say to them half the time. Neither do they."

"Because they know you're only here because your mom found out?"

Rachel nods. "What do you even say about that? I mean, it's one thing to have a friend in denial or choosing to be in the closet until they're ready, but an entirely other thing to know they're being forced to stay there for whatever reason."

"I'm sorry," Quinn whispers, in response to her explanation.

"Don't be," she says. "I know none of this is going to be easy for us, but I don't have regrets, Quinn. I already told you all of this. I'm happy. With you."

Quinn smiles, soft and shy. "You're beautiful."

Rachel blushes, and then startles when her phone vibrates in her pocket. She knows it's her mother before she even checks it, which is why she grumbles to herself as she fishes it out.

Then she sighs.

"We're almost back at your house," Quinn tells her.

Rachel shakes her head. "I wish - " she starts and then stops. What does she wish? A lot of things, apparently.

"Me too," Quinn says anyway, as if she just _gets_ it.

And, really, Rachel thinks she does.

They complete the rest of the drive to Rachel's house in silence while Rachel tries to come up with a suitable explanation for the blender, but she keeps coming up empty. She can't mention any of her friends from Glee, or even from school, because her mother has access to them, and this is bound to come back to bite her in the ass.

When Quinn pulls up around the block to her house, she decides to bite the bullet and just ask.

Quinn hums in thought as she shifts the car into Park. "Could you have bought it yourself?" she asks.

"Maybe," she says. "I mean, if I'd been saving up for months."

Quinn rolls her eyes. "It wasn't _that_ expensive."

"It's beautiful."

Quinn looks at her. "So are you."

Rachel shakes her head. "Stop distracting me and help."

Quinn gives her a little grin. "What about a secret admirer?"

She puffs out a breath. "Quinn, you're not helping."

"Hey," Quinn complains. "I'm trying."

Rachel sighs. "Will it always be this difficult?"

"No."

Rachel looks at up at the hastiness of her reply; the certainty in her tone. "You sound so sure," she points out.

"I am," Quinn says. "One day, when we're older, life is going to be so much easier."

Rachel swallows, debating whether asking if their families are still in their lives when they're in this older world is a good idea. She decides against it. "I should head inside," she says instead, explaining the text she received from Shelby. "My mother wants to go to the grocery store, apparently. She forgot some things we need for tomorrow."

Quinn nods, suddenly morose. Then she says, "Maybe you won it."

"What?"

"A raffle, maybe, or some random giveaway while you were out," she elaborates. "A random act of kindness."

Rachel smiles warmly, and then leans over to kiss Quinn. Soft and lingering. "Thank you for my present," she whispers against Quinn's lips.

Quinn looks dazed when Rachel pulls away. "I - I - uh, there's something else in the box, so make sure you're the first one to open it."

"What?"

Quinn blinks. "Happy birthday, Rachel Berry," she says, her expression so soft and adoring.

Rachel almost tells her she loves her again, and she realises it's going to be a constant struggle _not_ to tell her, until she jumps the gun and just _does_.

It happens much sooner than either of them anticipates.

* * *

But, first, Rachel has to evade her mother's questions about the blender. She won it while she was out, and that's really that about that.

Well, it should be.

Shelby stands in the kitchen as Rachel unpacks it, careful to slip the envelope she finds inside under the box before her mother can notice it. Her heart rate skyrockets at the sight of it, a smile threatening.

"Where?" Shelby asks.

"At the mall," Rachel answers easily.

"What were you even doing there? How did you get there?"

Rachel rolls her eyes. "I rode my rainbow unicorn," she says sarcastically. "What does it matter, anyway? It's not as if I stole it or something ridiculous like that."

Shelby folds her arms across her chest, clearly unimpressed with Rachel's attitude.

"Be nice, Mom," Rachel says; "and I might just let you use it."

Shelby shakes her head, scowling slightly. "Just make sure you rinse it first," she mutters, and then walks out of the kitchen.

Rachel breathes a sigh of relief, but she doesn't allow herself to relax until she's safely locked behind her bedroom door. She's tempted to message Quinn immediately, but she withholds long enough to open the envelope to reveal a birthday card with penguins on its front.

She loves it.

She loves the inside more, because she's presented with Quinn's handwriting, the letters slanted a little. Her smile is automatic as she lies against her pillows, wishing she were still with Quinn. Just to be able to look at her, maybe even touch her.

Something more than this.

With a heavy sigh, she starts to read.

_Dear Rachel,_

_My favourite colour is red. I know; it's difficult to believe, when I spend nearly every day dressed in the colour. I do like it, though. It makes me feel powerful, almost untouchable. Like_ Supergirl _, just without the blue._

 _My favourite film is_ Just Like Heaven _, the one with Mark Ruffalo and Reese Witherspoon. I really am a bit of a sucker for a romantic comedy, but there's just something about this one that settles me. I can't explain it._

_My favourite food is popcorn. Don't judge me. It's either that or this lentil soup my mom makes that's kind of to die for._

_My favourite drink is probably coffee. It's maybe cliché, I suppose, but I'm turning into one of those addicts. I hope it's not a dealbreaker._

_My favourite holiday is Thanksgiving. It's a special one. Did you know that Americans consume the most food on that particular Thursday? Insane._

_My favourite person is you. It's not a recent thing. It's been slowly building from the moment we met, on that night I'd probably like to forget. I don't think I made a good impression, so I'm just relieved you think I'm worth it. I intend to keep proving it to you, if you'll let me._

_Happy birthday, Rachel Berry. I sincerely hope you have an amazing, wonderful day. Try to enjoy it, will you? It's your birthday. Let it mean something, the way you mean to me._

_Love,  
_ _Lucas_

Rachel reads the card another two times before she reaches for her phone to send a very important text to Quinn.

 **Rachel** : _Yes. Yes to everything_.

There's really nothing else to say, and this confirmation is enough to get her through a very difficult afternoon with her mother.

She absently wonders if it'll ever be enough to last the required forever.

* * *

It's obvious, from the moment Finn Hudson arrives as their house that Shelby likes him _for_ Rachel. It's as plain as day that even the sometimes-oblivious tall boy notices he's received Rachel's mother's seal of approval.

Which, really, makes the entire afternoon unbearable from the get-go. She knew it was already going to be a trying day, but constantly being shadowed by Finn is exhausting.

Shelby is nauseating, and Rachel contemplates sending a text to Quinn about it, but ultimately decides against it. It'll just make Quinn tense, and Rachel is tense enough for the both of them.

Sarah seems sympathetic, but even she can't help wondering why Rachel is resisting so much. Rachel's excuses of _I'm still new and getting settled in_ and _I don't want to mess with the Glee dynamic_ don't really cut it, and Sarah is oddly persistent.

"Why are you so interested, anyway?" Rachel asks her while they're getting fresh drinks. "Do _you_ want to date him?"

Sarah pulls a face, which is enough of an answer.

Rachel raises her eyebrows. "Well, that's a ringing endorsement, isn't it?"

Sarah looks momentarily contrite, and then shrugs.

"I get it, though," Rachel says. "It all makes sense, and he definitely has leading man potential, but I don't like him that way. I don't understand why people won't just leave me alone about it."

Sarah raises her hands in innocence. "I was just asking," she says.

"No," Rachel says, frowning. "You're doing more than asking." She blinks. "Did my mother say something to you?"

Sarah looks genuinely surprised. "What?"

Rachel shakes her head, trying to swallow her paranoia. It's not as if Sarah can just tell her preference. It is _not_ written on her forehead. Also, her mother would rather move states than have people figure out her true sexuality. "Nothing," Rachel says. "Nothing."

Sarah gives her a curious look. "Sixteen-year-olds are weird."

" _You're_ sixteen," Rachel points out.

"Exactly," she says. "Quinn would totally agree with me."

Rachel has to stop herself from smiling like a crazy person just at the sound of Quinn's name. It's borderline pathetic, really. Sue her; she's in love.

She's in love.

Rachel is practically bursting to tell someone, and she realises that someone will probably end up being Quinn. Who else can she tell, anyway? Any online forums are out of the question, because her mother monitors their internet usage. She claims it's mainly to keep her brothers from looking up things they shouldn't, but Rachel knows better.

"What was Quinn like at sixteen?" Rachel finds herself asking.

Sarah shrugs. "She's been the definition of teenage angst since things ended with Sam."

Rachel blinks, trying to recall who Sam is. Oh. The blonde quarterback. Rachel got the shock of her life when she learned he and Quinn dated for a few months her sophomore year, and she's never really found herself disliking someone she's never actually spoken to until him.

It's irrational, she knows, but she thinks Quinn would feel the same about any of the people she dated in New York. Because they're just weird and in a relationship and Rachel loves her.

Loves her in a way that's dangerous.

Dangerous enough that she actually takes out her phone and texts Quinn while her mother disappears into the house to prepare the cake.

 **Rachel** : _I wish you were here XD_

It's not really a surprise when she receives a reply almost immediately, and she has to keep herself from smiling like an idiot. She can't help wondering if Quinn is hovering near her phone, anxious to know how the barbecue is going.

 **Lucas** : _Tell me, if I were there, would I get to see you in a bikini_?

 **Rachel** : _Baby, if you wanted to see me in a bikini, all you had to do was ask_.

 **Rachel** : _Also, it's freaking freezing today. If I were in a bikini, I hope you'd have me committed_.

 **Lucas** : _I might be too busy drooling, sorry ;)_

Rachel blushes, despite herself, and she finds herself missing Quinn so viscerally that she wants nothing more than to see her. Right now.

 **Rachel** : _It's my understanding you have a jacuzzi..._

 **Lucas** : _Oh my God_.

 **Lucas** : _Just imagine if I could actually make that happen_.

 **Rachel** : _I'm in public. I don't think imagining that is appropriate_.

 **Lucas** : _Is it weird that I suddenly feel violated_?

Rachel reaches for her cup of punch to hide her smile, because there's no way she'll be able to stop it. She actually wants to laugh, so this is as good as it's going to get.

 **Rachel** : _I promise I'll keep my hands to myself_.

It's a promise Rachel's not sure she'll actually be able to keep. If she were presented with a Quinn Fabray, clad in only a bikini, she's pretty sure she would die. Or cry. It would be impossible not to touch.

 **Lucas** : _That's not really a promise I'd ever want you to keep_.

And, now, Rachel's blushing. She takes another sip of her drink, and then feels actual relief when her mother comes back out of the house, the cake in her hands, lit with candles and a smile on her face that makes Rachel constantly uneasy.

She manages to shoot off one last text before she has to slip into the role of perfect daughter once more.

 **Rachel** : _Good, because it would be a struggle and then some... have you seen yourself? X_

* * *

There is a smoothie in her locker.

It's the first thing Quinn sees when she opens it on Monday morning, and she can't physically contain her smile. She doesn't even want to.

There's even a note attached, and Quinn feels ridiculous for feeling this giddy over a stupid smoothie. Just, you know, Rachel is thinking about her, and it's everything.

 _This is the first one the new blender made._ _Feel special.  
_ _I miss you.  
_ _\- R  
_ _P.S. I promise no berries were harmed in the making of this smoothie_.

Quinn runs her fingers over the note before she looks over her shoulder, suddenly registering the eyes on her. And, indeed, there Rachel is, watching her as she pretends to talk to someone Quinn vaguely recognises from their Glee Club.

Quinn winks at her, which makes the brunette blush dark enough for Quinn to be able to tell from several feet away. It's lovely.

She's lovely, and Quinn can feel herself falling deeper and deeper into this hole she has no intention of ever escaping.

Brittany suddenly appears in her line of sight and she startles, almost knocking over the smoothie. "Hi, Q," Brittany says, ever enthusiastic, even first thing in the morning.

"Hey, B," Quinn says, diverting her attention before she can be caught out mooning over her supposedly nonexistent significant other.

Brittany glances into her locker and smiles. "Does it taste nice?" she asks.

Quinn hesitates. "Oh, um, I haven't tried it yet."

"Who's it from?"

"It's just mine," she says.

Brittany nods thoughtfully. "Well, I hope it tastes nice," she says. Then, quieter, she says, "I'm here whenever you're ready to talk about it."

Okay.

Quinn's jaw tenses and she can barely look Brittany in the eye.

Not happening.

Nope.

This is not happening.

Quinn wonders if she's always going to feel this: anxious and nervous that people will be able to take one look at her and just know. Brittany is a special case, obviously, and Quinn thinks it might do her some good to tell her best friends she's managed to do the unthinkable and fall for her sister's best friend, who happens to be a girl.

Which is a thought that gets solidified when there's the sound of a sharp scream further down the corridor, and Quinn snaps to attention just in time to see Rachel drenched in slushy, Karofsky looking way too chuffed with himself and Santana walking past, moving to high-five the boy while she laughs.

Quinn wants to throw up.

Brittany rests a hand on her forearm and softly says, "She doesn't know."

Quinn suddenly knows it doesn't matter. Whether she knows or not, Santana is supposed to stop. Or, at least, not do it in front of her.

Fuck.

Quinn's jaw is clenched so tight, she's afraid she might crack a tooth. All she can really do, as everyone else laughs, is try to convey just how sorry she is to Rachel. Only, the brunette doesn't even look at her, which is perhaps the worst part.

Quinn's hands ball into fists, and she has to look away when Rachel turns and walks away, the sound of snickering following after her. Quinn hates herself sometimes, and this is one of those. She wants nothing more than to go after Rachel; to help and assure her, but she's a coward.

She's a fucking coward.

"That was epic," Santana says when she reaches where Quinn and Brittany are standing.

Brittany shakes her head and says, "That wasn't nice at all, San," before Quinn can even formulate words. "Why did you do that?"

"Because she's a loser," Santana says, as if it explains everything, and Quinn suddenly feels faint. Lightheaded and lost. She doesn't know how she's supposed to do any of this.

Quinn shakes her head, trying to clear it. Her heart aches, and she wishes she were better; freer. She wishes she were stronger; more worthy of Rachel and her goodness.

Santana must pick up on her mood because she inches forward. "Q?"

"I don't ask you for much," Quinn says, which is true. She never has to ask, because Santana usually just knows. "But I'm asking you for this: do whatever you have to do, I don't fucking care, but make sure Rachel is off limits."

Santana's brow furrows. "Who?"

Quinn doesn't bother to explain. "Just get it done," she says, and then she's walking away. Her mind won't acknowledge where she's going, but her feet carry her to the bathroom she knows Rachel is in, and she feels as if she's walking to her death.

The bathroom is empty save for Rachel, who is hunched over the sinks and washing out her hair. The sight is sad and pitiful, and Quinn wishes she could think of something to say or do to make it better.

It takes a long moment for Rachel to notice her, and she flinches in surprise, mainly. She definitely didn't expect to see Quinn in here, and she quickly looks away from the girl's reflection, her cheeks flushed from embarrassment. This is the absolute last thing she wants Quinn to witness.

"Sorry," Rachel says at the same time Quinn says, "I'm sorry."

Quinn frowns, recovering first and stepping forward. "Rachel, why on Earth are _you_ sorry?"

Rachel ducks her head, grabbing for a towel from her emergency kit to dry the tips of her hair. "I didn't want you to see me like this."

Quinn immediately closes the space between them, asking _can I_? very quietly, and then wraps arms around her from behind. "I'm the one who's sorry," she whispers, her eyes closing against the sight in front of her. "Fuck, Rach, I wish - " she stops, unsure what to say. "I just - "

Rachel turns her head slightly and kisses Quinn's cheek. "It's not your fault," she says. "You're not the one who did this to me."

"Then, why do I feel as if I am?" she whispers. "I clearly haven't done enough, and I haven't really cared this much before. Not since Sarah was first hit, and I shudder to think about the type of person that makes me."

Rachel hums. "I know you try," she says. "We all know that. It's not your fault people are cruel and don't listen."

Quinn sighs. "Do you think Santana is cruel?" she asks, and doesn't miss the way Rachel tenses in her arms. Quinn's heart twists, because she and Rachel are going to need Santana and Brittany. She's going to need the most important people in her life to get along.

"I don't know her at all, Quinn," Rachel says. "I can't make a decision on her based on nothing, the way she seems to have done when it comes to me."

Quinn winces, because that feels like a slap in the face, and Rachel hands it out so casually. She doesn't even have an explanation or some kind of excuse for Santana. She's just bored? She doesn't handle emotions well?

There are lots of parallels between her and Santana. They're the same in many ways, but terrifyingly different in others. This is one of them.

"I'm still sorry," Quinn says anyway. "This is the last time this'll happen, okay?"

Rachel sighs. "Please don't say things you can't insure."

"Watch me."

* * *

"Okay, like, do you want to tell me why the fuck I just had to give some kind of Executive Order over some nobody sophomore?"

Quinn has been expecting this from Santana, so she wouldn't say she's actually surprised. Still, she's unsure what to say without just giving it all up.

It might be time, anyway. She needs help. She needs to talk to someone who isn't Rachel; someone who understands the impossible situation Quinn is in now.

Quinn glances around, ensuring they're alone, and then very softly says, "Because I'm in love with her."

Santana's mouth drops open rather comically. "What?"

Quinn breathes out slowly. "She's the one I was talking about, San," she continues, her tone low and confidential. "She's the one."

Santana looks utterly thrown. "Younger than you and Sarah's friend," she recalls. "Whoa."

"Whoa, indeed."

"Are you two…?" she starts, and then trails off, unsure what she even wants to ask. "Are you _together_?"

Quinn licks her lips, suddenly feeling exhausted. "We are, yes," she says. "Well, we're trying, at least. It hasn't been very long - the dating part - but we've been orbiting each other… since we met, really."

Santana blinks. "Fuck," she says. "I don't even know what to say, Q. I did not see this coming."

"Which part?"

"Honestly," she murmurs, moving to sit beside Quinn on the bleachers. "All of it."

"You and me both," she says with a slight shrug. "I maybe had a bit of an idea before she rolled into town, but I know for sure now."

"What do you know?"

"There's a girl in my life, and I'm very much attracted to and in love with her," Quinn says. "Also, I'm pretty sure I'm gay."

Santana doesn't say anything for a long time, the two of them just sitting in silence and thinking over the revelation that now lives in the space between them.

Quinn thinks she should probably be more panicked. She's just come out to her best friend - and outed Rachel in the progress, which, okay, she knows she should have talked to Rachel about that first - but she trusts Santana. She'll apologise to Rachel later.

Right now, though…

"Please say something," Quinn whispers.

Santana blows out a breath. "Well," she says. "I'll admit that I have _so many_ questions, but I'll start with this one: are you okay?"

It's the way the question gets asked, so quietly and so sincerely, that really gets to Quinn. She doesn't know how or why, but she sucks in a breath to respond to the question and ends up bursting into tears.

"Fuck," Santana says, waving her hands between them, unsure what to do. "Fuck, fuck, Quinn, fuck, please don't cry."

Quinn laughs softly, wiping at her eyes with her fingers. "I'm sorry," she says. "I don't - I don't even know why I'm crying." She puffs out a breath. "I guess I'm just so relieved to be able to tell someone."

Santana rests a hand on her knee. "How - how long have you been keeping this to yourself?"

"I can't even tell you," she says, because she doesn't think she even knows. "It feels like forever."

"Since Sam?"

"Probably, maybe," she says. "I don't know. It just didn't feel... right."

"And, now it does?"

Quinn smiles automatically, just at the thought of Rachel. "It feels amazing."

"So, you're gay?"

"I believe so."

"And, you're dating your kid sister's best friend."

"Yip."

"Trippy."

Quinn rolls her eyes. "Well, I mean, I hope we're still dating, particularly after my best friend basically threw a slushy in her face."

Santana drops her gaze. "Right."

"You've really got to cut that shit out, Santana," she says. "It shouldn't matter that she's my girlfriend. It should just matter."

"Dude," Santana says, whistling lowly. "You totally have a girlfriend."

Quinn blinks. "I promised her," she says. "I promised I would do everything in this world to protect her; to make sure we can keep this secret until we're both ready." She swallows. "I'm going to need your help."

"Of course," Santana says. "You've done so much for Britt and me. Whatever you need. You know that."

Quinn breathes out slowly, feeling a certain tension ease out of her entire body. "I'm terrified," she says. "Every single day. Every second, I'm just terrified. And exhausted."

"I get it," Santana says, and Quinn reasons that she really, really does. "We'll figure it out, Q. Everything is going to be okay."

"Do you honestly believe that?" Quinn asks, and it's a genuine question.

"I have to," Santana says. "I don't know how I'm supposed to get through the next few months if I don't."

Quinn wipes at her eyes again, making sure all the tears are gone. "Think you can believe it enough for the both of us?" she asks, almost as a joke.

Santana answers her seriously. "I'll believe it enough for all four of us."

* * *

To say Rachel doesn't take the news that Santana now knows about them well is a bit of an understatement.

Okay, _a lot_ of a bit.

Quinn, obviously, waits until she can tell her in person, and, even then, it's late at night, the two of them whispering a little too loudly behind Quinn's locked bedroom door on the first night of their Winter Break.

Rachel said yes to Sarah's invitation to sleep over, and she's trying not to feel guilty about it being because she wants to see Quinn for an extended period of time.

It's just, well, she didn't expect to encounter _this_.

They're standing facing each other, Quinn with a straight spine, open and soft, and Rachel tense and a little hunched over.

"She knows?" Rachel asks again. "How - how could you just tell her?"

"I'm sorry," Quinn says, and she is. "She's my best friend, Rachel, and I trust her with this."

"But - but - "

"She understands," Quinn says, her voice even more quiet. "She _understands_ , okay?"

Rachel blinks once, twice, and then deflates. "Of course she understands," she says. "Sometimes, the way she looks at Brittany is..."

"Indecent," Quinn offers with a small smile.

Rachel doesn't look amused. "So, she knows."

"She knows."

"Does Brittany?"

"I think so," Quinn says. "I think she knew before today; without anyone even having to tell her."

Rachel would ask, but her skin is prickling with anxiety. The more people who know; the higher the chance of other people finding out; of her _mother_ finding out.

"Rach?" Quinn murmurs. "Are - is - please tell me we're okay."

Rachel just stares at her, still trying to wrap her head around the idea that another two people know about this one thing about her she's been forced to keep secret.

It turns into a panic attack several beats later.

"Oh, my God," Quinn says, stepping forward to wrap Rachel in a hug, but the brunette steps back and away from her, which is more gutting than she anticipates.

Oh.

Okay.

Quinn takes her own step back, her arms dropping to her sides before she moves to hug herself. God. Is this it? Are they literally stumbling at the first hurdle?

"I'm sorry," Quinn whispers. "I just - I can't cope with this stress, okay? And you were hit with a slushy, and I can't - I don't even know how to handle that. This is - you're important to me, and I am in this, but it's - " she stops and puffs out a breath. "Is it too much? Did I do it all wrong?"

Rachel feels her anxiety get overwhelmed by something else; something she can't quite explain. It's this desire to make it all better, but it's something else, as well. She needs to reassure Quinn in some way, and that's the terrifying part, because there's only one way she can think to do it.

But, Quinn is currently digging her own pit of uncertainty as she continues to ramble. "God, why did we think we could ever do this?" she asks, and she's mainly talking to herself. "We've barely survived a few days, and I can't even handle it. I mean, obviously, we can't do this ourselves, but I don't think we - "

"Quinn," Rachel suddenly says, sternly, raising her voice as if she knows it's the only way to get through to her.

Quinn stops talking abruptly, and stares at her with confusion, innocence and questions in her eyes.

"I love you," Rachel says simply.

Quinn's breath catches. "What?"

Rachel swallows against the anxiety in the pit of her stomach. "I love you."

Quinn can't compute. "You do?"

Rachel nods. "Very much," she says. "I love you, and I want to be with you, and I know this is going to be difficult and we're going to have to work hard at... keeping it all a secret, but I love you, and I want this. I want you."

"You do?"

Rachel just nods again, and then closes the space between them, immediately pressing her lips to Quinn's and feeling everything settle within her.

Sometimes, it just needs a kiss.

Or several.

More than several, apparently, as Quinn deepens the kiss, her fingers trailing along Rachel's sides and bringing her closer. Closer and closer.

Until this moment, they've had only public kisses and quick, stolen moments, so Rachel tells herself to pay attention to the taste and feel of Quinn's mouth against her own; the press of her body; the smell of her skin and hair.

She is so in love, and she intends to make sure Quinn believes her. Which is why she licks into Quinn's mouth, feeling smug when the blonde moans softly, her hands fisting the fabric of her shirt.

"Tell me again," Quinn murmurs.

"I love you," Rachel immediately says, knowing it's what Quinn is asking of her, and she squeaks in surprise when Quinn suddenly steps forward, her back hitting the wall behind her. "Oh."

Quinn's hands aren't idle as her body presses against Rachel's, their hips fitting so perfectly together. Her fingers slip under Rachel's pyjama top, trailing over the warm skin she finds. "Again."

Rachel lifts her hands from Quinn's hips, sliding over her strong shoulders until she wraps her arms around Quinn's neck. She pulls her closer, their kiss intensifying.

She's not surprised in the slightest that Quinn is a phenomenal kisser. She's not sure she'll ever tell her - Quinn's ego is too big for that - but she's going to enjoy every second of the attention of Quinn's talented mouth.

"I love you," Rachel breathes, tilting her head back when Quinn's lips drag along her jaw, down her neck. She sighs dreamily, her fingers threading through soft blonde hair. "I love you. I love you."

Quinn pulls back quite suddenly, her eyes unfocused, lips swollen and her cheeks flushed. "I've never been in love before," Quinn confesses quietly.

"That's okay," Rachel says, smoothing her hand over Quinn's hair. "I don't expect you to say it back or anything. I'm just glad you don't think it's too soon."

Quinn shakes her head. "No, Rachel, I'm trying to tell you I've never been in love before," she says, sounding almost desperate. Needing Rachel to _hear_ her.

Rachel blinks. "Okay, Baby."

"Until you," Quinn finishes.

Rachel sucks in a breath. "Oh."

"I'm really glad you're my first," Quinn says, letting the meaning sink in, and then she's kissing Rachel again. Deeply. Meaningfully. It's slower, more purposeful, and Quinn would stay here forever if she could. Rachel tastes like minty toothpaste, and the day itself lingers delightfully on her skin.

Quinn wants to taste. Her lips move from Rachel's mouth, along her jaw and down the gorgeous length of her neck. There's salt against her tongue, and she can't get over the sound of Rachel's increased rate of breathing right in her ear.

"Can I?" Quinn murmurs.

Rachel nods, even though she doesn't know what Quinn is asking. Whatever it is, she wants it too.

Oh, she wants. Desperately.

Quinn's hands slip right beneath her t-shirt, fingers cool on her heated skin as they trail up and down her sides, over her abdomen, and then around to her back, digging in.

Rachel gasps loudly, and Quinn covers her mouth with her own to muffle any more sounds. It doesn't really help, but Rachel makes a concerted effort to be quiet, her own hands in Quinn's hair and on her shoulder.

She's never been kissed like this before. So completely, wholeheartedly, and her mind is turning to mush with every flick of Quinn's tongue and every rake of her nails on her back.

Quinn's hands move lower and, before Rachel even knows what's happening, they're on her thighs. She has only a moment to register how good it feels before she's being lifted up and pressed more firmly against the wall behind her.

"Oh, God," her mouth automatically says, her heart pounding in her chest. Her legs wrap around Quinn's hips, locking her ankles, and she moans entirely too loudly when hands cup her ass and abdominals press against her centre.

Wow.

Okay.

"Is this okay?" Quinn asks, sounding breathless and needy.

Rachel doesn't actually know if it is. While she's never actually gone 'all the way' - not that she thinks they're going anywhere close to that right now - she has done some significant things.

They've never really talked about this.

Quinn must sense her hesitation, because she slows their kiss and moves her hands to Rachel's waist instead.

"Sorry," Quinn murmurs, starting to disentangle their limbs.

The last thing Rachel wants is for Quinn to be sorry; to think she's done something wrong, because she definitely hasn't.

Once Rachel's feet are safely on the floor again, she pushes up to kiss Quinn's mouth again, trying to let the girl know that everything is okay. They should just slow down, is all.

"I love you," Rachel says, because she does and she can.

Quinn's eyes flutter open at some point, and she looks dazed.

Rachel kisses her again, short and sweet. "Come, sit with me for a while," she says, sliding her hand into Quinn's and pulling her towards the bed. The house is still blissfully silent, and they're probably going to need it to get through this conversation.

They settle on Quinn's bed, sitting side-by-side, legs tangled in front of them and fingers linked. Rachel wonders if touching each other is a good idea for this topic, but they're going to have to spend so much time apart or pretending they're nothing more than casual friends, so she's trying not to think too hard about it.

"We're going to have to talk about this," Rachel starts. "Whether we like it or not, really."

Quinn hums. "I don't know where to start."

"It doesn't matter where you start," Rachel assures her. "I love you."

Quinn looks at her with disbelief and wonder in her eyes. "Are you sure?"

"Deadly."

Quinn sighs. "I've never done anything like this before," she admits. "I've never... wanted it as much as I do before."

Rachel flushes at the sound of those words. "Wow, okay."

Quinn looks away. "Is that too much?"

"No," Rachel assures her. "Just, you know, tonight is a lot of revelations, isn't it?"

Quinn nods. "I guess I'm sort of a virgin," she forces herself to say. "I've been able to hide behind religion to keep boys from trying to get any further than, well, haphazard touching, I guess." She shrugs, to show it means nothing, but Rachel can't help burning with some kind of misplaced and confusing jealousy. She knows she doesn't like the thought that someone else has actually _touched_ Quinn, and the idea of her feelings towards it makes her uncomfortable. It's almost caveman-ey.

"Sort of?"

Quinn looks away, blushing. "I mean, I guess definitions are all skew and stuff," she says with another shrug. "Just, I guess the most important thing is that you're the only person I'd even want to - " she stops abruptly. "Just, you know, I want you. Only you."

"What do you want from me?"

"Everything."

And, the thing is, Rachel is definitely willing to give it.


	7. Chapter 7

**VII**

Rachel wakes to the sound of Quinn's phone alarm going off. For a moment, she has absolutely no idea where she is, but it comes to her rather quickly.

It helps that there's a body curled around hers.

Quinn's arms are comfortably wrapped around her middle, the warmth of her all-consuming. Rachel can feel her breath against the back of her neck, which grows a little jagged as Quinn wakes slowly.

Quinn groans in annoyance, her arms tightening around Rachel. "No," she mumbles, her voice muffled by Rachel's hair.

Rachel shifts a little. "I have to go," she says, her voice raspy from sleep. "I don't know about you, but I don't want to come up with some explanation for why I'm in your bed."

"Nightmares," Quinn offers.

Rachel giggles softly, shifting again until she can actually turn completely and look at Quinn's face. "Baby."

Quinn finally opens her eyes, blinking a few times. "Hi," she whispers.

Rachel kisses the tip of her nose. "I have to go."

"No."

"I know we're the two people who wake up the earliest in this house, but this is merely tempting fate," she says. "What would we even say?"

Quinn ignores the question and tucks her face into the crook of Rachel's neck. She presses several kisses there, marvelling at the way Rachel's entire body practically melts against her.

"Baby," Rachel breathes, a hand sliding into Quinn's hair. "Do you want to go for a run?"

Quinn lets out an amused breath. "I think that's the best idea you've ever had," she says, and then forces herself to get to her feet, groaning in displeasure at the cold that hits her body once she's upright.

Rachel just watches her with unconcealed wonder, and obvious desire. If Quinn notices her wandering gaze, she doesn't acknowledge it. It makes her feel warm inside, though, and she just about manages not to trip over her own feet as she moves towards her closet.

Rachel eventually gets out of bed as well, stretching her limbs. "I'm just going to head across and change," she says. "Meet you in the kitchen?"

Quinn nods, bending to retrieve her running shoes. "You want a smoothie?"

"After."

Quinn straightens and smiles, presenting her cheek for a quick kiss.

Rachel marvels at how easy; how perfect this moment is, and then presses her lips to Quinn's skin. "Ten minutes, max," she says, and then ducks out of Quinn's room, trying to be as quiet as she can. She really, really wouldn't know what to say if she were to encounter Sarah or Quinn's parents.

She's ready in next to no time, but Quinn still beats her downstairs. They risk several kisses as they gear up, because who knows when next they'll be able to spend time together, alone?

Quinn and Sarah are leaving with their parents to visit Russell's family in South Carolina the next day, and Rachel needs this time. Just to settle herself, because it feels as if everything has been going in fast forward since she and Quinn met. She wishes things would just pause, or just slow down.

She needs a moment to catch her breath.

Which is a sentiment that's redoubled when she and Quinn finally hit their stride, Rachel just managing to keep pace this time around. Quinn is still going just that bit slower to accommodate her, which she appreciates.

They run for almost half an hour, Quinn leading them further and further from the house. Rachel can't explain the serenity that starts to wash over her the further they get. Just, being able to put some space between them and scrutiny calms her nerves enough that, when they do stop to catch their breaths, Rachel feels brave enough to drag Quinn behind a row of trees and kiss her senseless.

They're already sweaty and panting, and it should be gross, but Quinn presses her against a tree trunk and she still smells like powder, and Rachel is so in love with her.

They haven't said it again. The three words. Not in the daylight.

So Rachel tries it now.

"I love you."

They come out a little rushed, and Quinn's hips jerk, her kiss turning a little desperate. Rachel can't help her smile, and her fingers slide into damp hair, tugging as if she and Quinn can possibly get any closer.

They make out for entirely too long, and then race home with smiles on their faces and laughter in their lungs. Is this what being in love is supposed to feel like? Because Rachel wants this for forever.

Quinn's skin is red and her eyes are a little wet by the time they get to the house, and she risks a quick hand-squeeze before they step into the kitchen where they can hear Judy moving around

The woman startles at the sight of them, and then smiles.

"Finally found someone willing to run with you, I see," she says, kindly and a little knowingly.

"Someone I didn't have to bribe, at least," Quinn jokes, already moving towards the fridge to take out a selection of fruit. She pauses. "Actually, I did promise you a smoothie. Does that count?"

Rachel, admittedly, is a little caught off guard by Quinn's ease, but she eventually smiles and nods, moving further into the kitchen. "Good morning," she says to Judy, feeling her heart rate finally start to slow.

"Morning, honey," Judy says, and she's always been so genuine. Even though Rachel knows things will change when she learns about Quinn, at least her love for her daughter isn't questioned.

Not like Shelby's.

It's a sobering thought, really, that Shelby doesn't seem to care all that much about her beyond whether or not she's not doing anything she's not supposed to. Shelby claims all she's doing is from a place of love, but Rachel knows better.

Rachel hangs around, offering help to Judy and trying not to stare at Quinn. The muscles in her arms are still glistening, and Rachel is gay and helpless. Also, she's quite desperately in love, and her girlfriend is currently making her a smoothie. She can barely handle it.

Quinn eventually presents a purple substance to her in a glass, her smile entirely too proud, and Rachel loves her.

She loves her so much.

"This is a Berry Dairy," Quinn says. "Blueberries, raspberries, strawberries, banana, yoghurt, honey and some milk."

"Thank you," Rachel says, blushing. "Though, what would you do if I _were_ vegan?"

Quinn barely misses a beat. "Sugar alternative, soy milk and cultured coconut."

Rachel could kiss her, so she rather just sips her smoothie with a secret smile, and Quinn must know from the widening of her eyes, and then the sudden smirk.

Well.

Quinn winks at her, and then says, "Mom, I'm going to shower," over her shoulder.

Rachel drinks more of her smoothie before she says or does something to give them away.

Quinn doesn't immediately leave. She stands and lingers, her eyes focused and tender. Rachel feels it deep in her soul, and it's terrifying. It's the scariest thing, because she knows she would give up everything in her world for this.

For Quinn.

Quinn squeezes her wrist when Judy isn't looking, and it settles something in Rachel's gut.

 _I love you_ , Quinn is saying.

Rachel can only hope it'll prove to be enough.

* * *

Rachel feels slightly guilty with relief when Quinn and Sarah depart Lima to spend the holidays with Russell's family. It's not to say she's not going to miss them - because she is, one more so than the other - but she's been wound so tight for so long that a few days without crippling anxiety at being discovered helps.

Her brothers have also taken to this entire Christmas thing with quite the vengeance. It's distracting enough that she actually allows herself to enjoy her family, almost delighting in the way Ethan and Matthew can't seem to sit still for a single minute at a time. Her mother isn't totally overbearing, and her stepfather doesn't grate on her nerves like he usually does. Rachel would even call their Winter Break something of a turnaround if she didn't know, without a doubt, that none of it is going to last.

She's gay.

She has a girlfriend.

None of that is in the plans her family seems to have.

So, it's with a halting sense of inevitability that she moves into the new year. Quinn sends her texts right through the evening, and Rachel allows the giddiness of talking to her girlfriend to overwhelm her melancholy. It's something she knows she and Quinn are going to have to speak about in more detail.

If this relationship is going to extend beyond this year, then they have a series of some very difficult conversations coming their way. Of course, Rachel _hopes_ they'll be together forever, but she's also a bit of a pessimistic realist.

Rachel Berry doesn't get happy endings.

Her mother will see to it.

The buzz of her phone draws her attention, and she reaches for it on the coffee table, carefully ignoring the curious look her mother sends her. They're just an hour away from the new year, and her brothers are already losing the battle to sleep. It's actually kind of cute, and there's a part of her that wishes she were still that young and somewhat disillusioned about the horrors of the world. It'd be nice having the most to worry about being whether to have blueberry or chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast.

Blueberry, obviously.

Quinn's text isn't brief, and Rachel doesn't have the patience to wait to read it in private.

 **Lucas** : _I had a realisation earlier this evening while my father was droning on and on about the state of society and humanity these days that I haven't once considered how cool it is to be in a relationship where neither of us is a misogynistic asshole. It's honestly the greatest thing. Literally sitting here and watching this ridiculous family be all ridiculous; I am SO relieved I get to have you. As difficult as it all is, at least we don't have to deal with stupidity IN our relationship. Can you imagine?_

Rachel finds herself smiling before she can help herself, immediately typing out her response.

 **Rachel** : _I miss you_ 😘 _And, no, I can't imagine, so I'm not going to try. We're going to make sure we have our heads screwed on straight, right? (Which, well, you know_ 😉 _)_

 **Lucas** : _Think you're funny, don't you?_

 **Rachel** : _I really, really miss you_ 😘

 **Lucas** : _I miss you, too. I've been thinking about you constantly, but especially today._

 **Rachel** : _Why specifically today?_

 **Lucas** : _I have this feeling that this next year is important for us, so I've been trying to project some happy thoughts into the Universe. I want us to go into the new year happy and together and in love, and I want it to last._

 **Rachel** : _Is that your new year's wish?_

 **Lucas** : _Uh, I don't think that's how it works, R... They're called resolutions, not wishes._

Rachel giggles to herself, and she's vaguely aware of her mother clearing her throat somewhere to her right.

 **Rachel** : _Does it matter when they both fizzle to nothing anyway?_

 **Lucas** : _Touché._

 **Lucas** : _My witty little genius_ 😉

She's in the middle of sending a reply when her mother suddenly says, "Who are you texting?"

Rachel's eyes snap towards her, good mood evaporating in the blink of an eye. "What makes you think I'm texting anyone?" she asks, tense, and her stepfather shifts in his seat.

"Is it Finn?" Shelby asks, and Rachel just manages to catch herself before she rolls her eyes.

"No, it's not," she says. "It's actually Sarah. Her entirely family is stumbling into the new year inebriated, and she's sending me anecdotes about their antics."

Shelby just stares at her.

"Is this the moment when you insist on checking my phone?" Rachel asks rather pointedly. "Because I thought you were 'trying to trust me' or whatever shtick you seem to be on right now."

Shelby blinks, and then clears her throat. "Well, wish her a happy new year from all of us," she eventually says. "We really should have her over for dinner one of these days."

Rachel clenches her jaw, and then shakes her head as she types another message.

 **Rachel** : _I really, really miss you. When do you come home_?

* * *

Quinn picks up on Rachel's melancholy almost immediately. It comes through text so acutely that Quinn excuses herself from the living room and goes up the stairs of her grandparents' house to the room she's sharing with Sarah. It's blissfully empty of her sister, and she throws herself onto her bed, phone in hand.

She glances at the time, makes the decision, and then bites the bullet.

Rachel answers a considerable number of rings later. "I just had to duck and dive to answer this," she says, sounding a little breathless. "Honestly, you'd think I'm running some kind of drug ring." She pauses. "Actually, I think that would probably be preferable to this, even though _that's_ actually illegal."

"Hello to you, too," Quinn says with a smile.

Rachel sighs. "Sorry," she murmurs, sounding embarrassed. "Hi, baby."

Quinn smiles, relaxing into her mattress. "Bad night?"

"It was going well until it just wasn't," Rachel admits. "I just really miss you."

"I miss you, too," Quinn returns, and it's such a truth that her body aches with it.

"And, I know, realistically, we probably wouldn't even be together right now, but I can't help wishing you were here, or I was there, and we could..." she trails off, sighing.

"You just want a New Year's kiss, don't you?" Quinn teases, because Rachel sounds far too serious and defeated for this time of night.

"I do."

"I promise to lay one on you the second we're back in Lima."

Rachel laughs. "That's a rather hefty promise."

Quinn hums. "It is; you're right," she says. "Maybe not quite the second we get back, but we're going to see each other."

"Oh?"

Quinn hesitates. "So, I'm going to tell you something, and I need you not to read into it too much."

"Okay..."

"Santana and her family are going to be away on holiday for at least another four days after we get back to Lima."

Rachel remains silent.

"She said we can use her house if we want some privacy."

Still, Rachel says nothing.

"To talk, mainly. To hang out or whatever. Not for... that. Or, I mean, it could - just, I'm telling you because it can be a place where we can just spend time together without worrying about people seeing us."

"That sounds - "

"Is it stupid?" Quinn suddenly asks. "We don't have to. I mean, I can figure something else out if it's too weird."

"Baby, that sounds perfect."

"It does?"

"It really, really does," Rachel breathes. "I can't wait."

"Neither can I."

They fall to silence, both of them just breathing on either end of the line. Quinn closes her eyes, trying to imagine being with Rachel; getting to hold her and reassure her in person.

A sudden sound gets her attention, and her eyes snap open at the first echo of fireworks going off. She rolls to her feet and walks to the window, looking out at the lit sky just as the countdown begins downstairs.

"Happy new year, my love," Quinn says when the time comes, feeling her heart swell.

Rachel makes a kissing sound. "Imagine I'm kissing you."

"It has nothing on the reality."

Rachel sighs, and it sounds dreamy. "I love you."

Quinn's breath catches. "I love you, too."

Maybe this year won't be so terrible.

* * *

It takes a certain genius for Rachel to plan her own life around Quinn's return to Lima. Sarah also wants to see her, and Rachel doesn't know if she'll be able to justify staying away from home for so long to her mother.

Two nights, maybe.

One night with Quinn, and one night with Sarah.

Or, if her mother doesn't agree to two nights, it'll have to be the night with Sarah, and Quinn squeezed in all around her.

Which is what ends up happening, and Rachel burns with irrational anger that she won't be able to spend the night with Quinn.

Just talking.

But doing other things, as well, because she's suddenly acutely aware of how much time they actually have left to be together in all the ways they deserve. At least Quinn's schedule is flexible enough that whatever Rachel says, _goes_.

 **Rachel** : _This is the plan_.

 **Lucas** : _I already agree to the plan_.

 **Rachel** : _I haven't even told you what's happening_.

 **Lucas** : _And, yet, I still agree_.

 **Rachel** : _On Friday, we'll meet at S's place at eleven, and then do whatever until we both have to be at your house for dinner. Then, on Saturday, we go back to S's house (whenever) until I have to get home for… whatever reason my mother will eventually think up_.

 **Lucas** : _Just a reminder that I already agreed to this plan. I CAN'T wait to see you!_

And, Rachel loves her.

She absolutely _loves_ her.

* * *

Quinn barely gives her the opportunity to take in the foyer of Santana's house before the door is slamming shut behind her and she's being kissed so thoroughly that she's sure she forgets her own name.

How has she gone her whole life without this?

Without _Quinn_?

"God, I missed you so much," Quinn murmurs against her lips, kissing her again and again, before pulling back completely. "Hi."

Rachel smiles, giddily and stupidly. "I missed you, too," she says, her arms lifting to rest on Quinn's shoulders, fingers threading through her hair. "You look older," she observes.

Quinn looks bemused. "Because it's the new year?" she asks. "Because, you know, that could be an insult."

Rachel kisses her lips just once, and then hugs her close.

Quinn settles into the embrace, and this is really the first time they've been afforded this amount of time just to _be_. Without worrying about someone seeing them, or someone walking in on them.

Eventually, they break apart - just barely - and Quinn slips her hand into Rachel's before leading her through the house towards the kitchen.

"I made you brunch," Quinn says.

Rachel laughs. "I told you I've already eaten."

"I don't really care," Quinn says. "I made you brunch, and you're going to eat it… because you love me."

"Hmm, using my affection for you against me, I see."

Quinn grins at her. "Well, I have to get _something_ out of this deal, huh?"

Rachel grabs at the front of her t-shirt and tugs her into a heated kiss that only ends when Rachel pushes a little too hard and Quinn bumps her hip against the corner of the kitchen island.

"Mother fucker," Quinn hisses, furiously rubbing at the battle sight.

Rachel covers her hand with her own. "Sorry, baby," she says, only a little amused.

Quinn glares at her. "Now, you definitely have to have the brunch I so painstakingly made for you."

"I was always going to."

Quinn rolls her eyes. "Just come drink your stupid smoothie."

* * *

It's easier than Rachel expects it to be; just existing in Quinn's presence. She's definitely aware it's just the two of them, alone in this huge house, but the anxiety she felt before Quinn left Lima has disappeared completely.

Rachel knows it's dangerous to think it, but they can have this.

They _can_.

The day is lazy. They spread out on the couch with their smoothies, just watching trashy reality television while they talk about absolute nonsense. While Rachel _knows_ how she feels about Quinn, there are still a lot of things she doesn't quite know about her, and Quinn spends the next few hours rectifying that.

Rachel learns that Quinn takes a lot of things very seriously, from the political climate to the mental health of her cheerleading squad. Rachel learns that Quinn is a little bit obsessed with _Lego_ , and can't resist watching the film _Poseidon_ whenever it plays on television.

"It's an actual problem, Rachel," Quinn says, pouting adorably.

Rachel would tease her about her apparent 'thing' for brunettes, but she just kisses her instead. Next, she learns that Quinn has been working on an actual original novel since she was fifteen, and Rachel is desperate to read it.

"Maybe," Quinn says, a little cryptically, which just earns her another kiss.

They kiss _a lot_ , right there on that couch. And then outside in the sun, when Quinn convinces her to spend some time on the back deck. It's still freezing in Ohio, but they settle on a deck chair together, Rachel fitting into the space between Quinn's legs and leaning her back against Quinn's front.

Quinn's arms stay secure around her middle, and Rachel learns that Quinn only pretends to be prickly about physical affection. She absolutely adores it, based on the way Quinn can't stop touching her and holding her and kissing her skin.

It all feels like magic, but Rachel isn't naïve enough not to remember the rest of the world exists outside of this little bubble they've created for themselves.

Rachel learns that Quinn hates how attached she is to her phone, but she recognises the need for it.

"I think I would fall apart without it," she says, nuzzling Rachel's cheek. "Which is just sad."

Rachel turns her head to kiss her. "Modern day woes," she teases. "First world problems."

Quinn chuckles softly. "The sympathy is seriously rolling off of you right know."

Rachel leans back into her, and she learns that Quinn is really such a big softie.

* * *

Rachel leaves first, some hours later, after they've made out quite furiously against the front door and put it off for as long as they possibly can.

It's stupid to feel so sad about separating, when they're just going to see each other within the hour at dinner with Quinn's family. It won't be the same, obviously, which is why Quinn holds on so tightly for as long as Rachel allows.

Still, Rachel leaves, heading straight to Quinn's house, and Quinn waits the already decided half hour before making her own way home, just in time to sit at the table for dinner. She kisses her mother's cheek in greeting, scrubs at her father's five-o'clock shadow, ruffles Sarah's hair and merely squeezes Rachel's shoulder with a secret smile.

"Sorry I'm late," she says, even though she's not at all.

Russell gives her a very particular look as she slides into her seat at the table. "We were just talking about how Rachel spent her Winter Break," he says.

Quinn nods, smiling a little tightly. "Anything wild?"

Rachel almost rolls her eyes, but maintains her composure. "Just stayed up way too late," is what she ends up saying. "I think I need a holiday to recover from my holiday."

"Oh, definitely," Judy says, laughing softly. "I'm glad to be home, so I can relax."

Russell frowns slightly. "You make it sound as if you had the worst time while we were away."

Judy gives him a pointed look, but says nothing, and Quinn and Sarah exchange their own _knowing_ look. Family politics, wow.

Quinn glances at Rachel next, and her eyes are soft with some kind of understanding. She's never felt so lucky to have her in her life until this very moment, and she reaches out with her foot until it's casually pressed against Rachel's.

Rachel barely reacts, which is amazing, and Quinn wonders just _what_ she could get away with before Rachel _does_ react.

One day, she'll try it, but she's pretty sure she'll give them both a heart attack if she tried it now.

Just, something to think about.

* * *

Predictably, Sarah monopolises Rachel's time from the moment dinner is over until she passes out on the couch just after midnight. Quinn has already disappeared upstairs by the time Sarah slips into slumber, and Rachel just sits a while with the television playing something and thinks rather hard about how she's going to get through the next few weeks.

Months.

Even years.

It's all something she's going to have to talk to Quinn about, because she's certain the anxiety of keeping everything such a secret is going to creep into her psyche, whether she wants it to or not.

With a sigh, she gets to her feet and crosses the room to where Sarah has spread out. She looks a little uncomfortable, so Rachel doesn't feel too guilty shaking her shoulder to get her up.

"Time for bed," she says when Sarah blinks open her eyes.

Sarah smiles up at her. "You're the best."

Rachel just shakes her head, and then lifts Sarah to her feet. Sarah stumbles slightly, and Rachel laughs softly as she makes sure all the doors are locked and the lights are off before they head upstairs. Rachel's heart rate picks up when they pass Quinn's closed door, and she can't figure out if she's supposed to sneak into Quinn's bedroom or not.

First, she makes sure Sarah actually makes it _into_ her bed - there was a night she ended up on the floor and just stayed there - and then she forces herself to go to what has been dubbed her room. She closes the door behind her and just stands on the carpet as she contemplates what to do next.

Brush her teeth.

Okay, she can do that.

So, she does, carefully avoiding looking at Quinn's door. It's alarming how a single piece of wood can be so anxiety-inducing. It can't be normal.

Debating so much can't be normal, either, and Rachel really makes her decision when she notices the small stuffed kangaroo sitting just inside the flap of her bag that definitely wasn't there when she first brought her bag upstairs.

Oh.

Okay.

It's childish, she knows, but she still ruffles her bed and shifts the duvet around to look as if she's actually been in the bed, and then crosses the corridor to Quinn's bedroom. She taps the wood with the nail of her forefinger before she opens the door, slips inside and locks it behind her.

Quinn is obviously asleep, but that doesn't stop Rachel from padding across the carpet towards the bed and very carefully sliding under she covers and snuggling into the curve of Quinn's body.

Quinn shifts, almost automatically, and her arms wrap around Rachel's waist, face buried in Rachel's hair.

Rachel feels her body relax, her heart rate steadying.

Quinn hums softly, says, "I already set an alarm," and then leads Rachel right into slumber.

* * *

They don't talk immediately.

Despite the fact Rachel is technically visiting Sarah, she ends up spending a lot of time with Quinn, merely because they both wake so early. They're able to go for their run, and Quinn even makes them smoothies before Judy emerges, Russell following minutes later, which Quinn uses as an excuse to head upstairs for a shower and change.

Then Quinn leaves the house completely, and Rachel dedicates attention to her best friend, who seems a bit… thoughtful. Like, there's something on her mind, but she won't bring it up unless Rachel asks.

So, Rachel asks.

Sarah is usually some kind of chaotic energy, so the fact she stops and considers her response alarms Rachel. Could Sarah know? She and Quinn have been careful, but, God, this is _exactly_ what Rachel is so worried about.

"Do you think Quinn likes me?" Sarah asks after a prolonged silence, and Rachel freezes where she's seated at the piano, Sarah on a stool and fiddling with her guitar.

"What do you mean?"

"I just - I get the feeling that she doesn't _like_ me, sometimes," she says. "I mean, it's obvious she _loves_ me, but things are… she's just different with me." She looks away. "We used to be really close when we were little, but I can tell something happened, and she's just… pulled away, or something like that. Like, she doesn't even _talk_ to me anymore. She'd rather talk to Santana or Brittany, or whoever's in her phone, and I just - have you ever felt as if someone doesn't _trust_ you?"

Rachel honestly has no idea how to respond, because she has a pretty good idea of the reason why Quinn has built up some kind of wall against her family.

At Rachel's silence, Sarah shakes her head. "Never mind," she says; "It's stupid."

"No, it's not stupid," Rachel immediately says, caught. "I can't say I _do_ know what you're talking about, exactly, but you have to know how important you are to her."

Sarah sighs. "That's just it," she says. "It doesn't feel as if I am. Not anymore. It's - it's almost as if she's preparing herself for when she has to leave." She blinks. "Like she's going to college and just never coming back."

Rachel sucks in a breath. " _Sarah_."

Sarah shakes her head again, her features closing off, and Rachel knows this is the end of this topic of conversation. "So…" she says, a little too loudly; "What songs are you thinking of convincing us to perform for Regionals?"

* * *

Rachel hasn't felt as torn between the two sisters until she manages to leave the Fabray house an hour later and drives straight to Santana's. Is she supposed to bring up Sarah's worries to Quinn? Is she supposed to be the one to alleviate whatever disjoint seems to exist between the two of them?

It all just goes on the list of things they need to talk about, which all gets derailed when Rachel enters the house and finds Quinn sitting on the floor in the living room with her laptop and homework spread out in front of her. She's wearing her glasses, legs folded under her own body and the cutest look of concentration on her face.

Rachel can't bring herself even to allude to all they need to talk about, because Quinn is so wonderful and pure like this, and Rachel loves her. It's terrifying just how much, and she thinks it's _disastrous_ when Quinn looks up and smiles so softly at her that Rachel _knows_ she'll give up her entire world for this.

For Quinn.

"Hey," Quinn says, her eyes tender. "Want to help me explain the colour symbolism in _The Great Gatsby_?"

 _Not particularly_ , Rachel thinks, but she goes anyway.

* * *

What feels like hours later, Quinn makes them a snack of popcorn when Rachel finally manages to drag her away from her homework so they can pretend to watch television, but actually make out instead.

Quinn tastes salty and sweet, and Rachel is determined to kiss her until she's complete putty. It's this power she's just now realising she has, using her own body to work Quinn's. It's almost magic.

Rachel guides Quinn onto her back and climbs over her, hands constantly moving as she feels all the delicious muscle Quinn spends hours and hours honing.

Quinn slides her own hands over the skin of Rachel's back, making her shiver. "Can I ask you something?" she asks, looking up at Rachel with tender eyes that make Rachel want to freeze this moment in history.

"You can ask me anything," Rachel breathes, and she means it.

Quinn blinks slowly. "Is - is this going to be enough for you?" she asks. "Hiding like this, and sneaking around; trying to find moments to be together. Will it be enough?"

Rachel sighs, lifting herself up slightly, so she can meet Quinn's gaze. "For now, Quinn, it has to be," she says. "I don't have a choice, and neither do you."

"I wish - "

"I know, baby."

Quinn shifts until she's sitting up, and Rachel moves back to allow her space. "They can never find out," she says, and she sounds so, so sad.

"They can't," Rachel agrees, turning to sit beside Quinn as she leans against the couch. "The consequences are... dire."

Quinn looks at her. "Would she make you leave again?"

"Maybe," Rachel muses. "I can't realistically say I know what goes through her mind."

Quinn sighs. "But it's what happened the last time?"

Rachel takes hold of Quinn's right hand and squeezes with both of her own. "That was... complicated," she explains. "Can I tell you about it?"

"Only if you want to," Quinn offers.

Rachel drops her gaze to their hands, quietly marvelling at how perfectly they fit together. "I knew what was happening when it was happening," she starts. "I had friends who were girls, but this one girl was different, and I immediately knew, because I was exposed to it in school and media... as much as my mother tried to keep it from us. So, I knew, and I also knew my mother would hate it, because she hates gay people, and - and the worst part is that it has nothing to do with religion.

"Well, not _all_ to do with religion. It's - it's mainly my father's fault, but it's not something she even talks about, other than calling him terrible names related to the fact he left her - and _us_ \- for another man."

Quinn's eyes widen, but she says nothing.

"Anyway, her name was Laura, and I was pretty smitten from the get-go," Rachel explains. "I wasn't sure what to do about it, and I wasn't ever very good at lying to my mother. So, you know, I started acting... weird." She rolls her eyes. "I had this journal that I wrote in, which, in hindsight, was such a rookie error on my part. Obviously, she found it, and obviously, everything fell apart practically immediately. I - I don't like to think about it, but it was... yeah, it was bad, Quinn. She reacted so strongly, and it's been absolutely horrible ever since.

"When she told us we were moving, she made it sound as if it was my fault, and my brothers resent me for it. My mother thinks I'm doing the devil's work, or whatever reason she's hiding behind, and my stepfather doesn't have a backbone to do _anything_."

Quinn presses her lips together. "What about your father?"

Rachel's features darken. "He signed me away in the divorce," she explains. "I haven't seen him since he took off from New York with his new family, and I don't even know where he is. What could he do for me now, anyway?"

Quinn shifts closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "I'm sorry," she whispers. "I just wish it wasn't this hard."

"We're supposed to have people," Rachel murmurs.

"I know they're probably the last people you want, but we have Santana and Brittany," Quinn says. "They've been doing this a lot longer than I have."

"We don't have much of a choice, do we?"

"We always have a choice," Quinn automatically says, which they both know is a terrible, horrible lie.

* * *

Returning to school is both easy and difficult.

She and Quinn are busy enough that Rachel doesn't worry too much about the idea of giving themselves away by mistake. The only times they even interact are when they pass each other in the corridors or in the bathrooms, or when Sarah forces some kind of conversation between them.

The bulk of their relationship exists behind closed doors and in their phones.

That is until Brittany suggests a double date to Quinn, making sure to mention it'll just look like a group of them out and about.

"I'm still Quinn Fabray," Quinn has to point out. "I don't think I'm willing to put any kind of target on Rachel's back if anyone sees her out with the Unholy Trinity."

Which is really how she and Rachel end up at Brittany's house for some kind of double-date hangout with pizza and ice cream and movies. Rachel is nervous when she first arrives, but Brittany has this way of settling even the most anxious people, just by being exactly whom she is.

Rachel envies her for that, but also for the way Brittany's parents are so obviously on board with the whole my-daughter-has-a-girlfriend thing. They tease and make casual innuendo as Brittany tries to guide Quinn and Rachel through the house and out into the backyard, where the deck has been set up with some kind of outdoor cinema, upright heater included.

It _is_ still Ohio.

Rachel stays close to Quinn, their hands painfully linked, and she can't help the increased pressure when she first sees Santana.

"Ouch," Quinn complains, tensing. "Rach, ease up, will you?"

"Sorry," she immediately says, and visibly tries to relax her grip.

Her entire body.

Just, _relax_ , at all.

If Quinn senses her unease, she doesn't mention it. She just pulls her further onto the deck, closer to Santana, who looks so different to the girl who roams the school corridors like a predator.

Here, she just looks… soft.

Rachel doesn't even know what to do with this new information. She barely recognises the Latina like this, and she's forced to look away when Santana practically bounds towards them with her phone in her handm practically shoves it in Quinn's face, and says, "Dudes, check out this meme."

It's completely surreal; just watching the way Quinn and Santana interact with each other. There's obvious snark to their words, but an underlying affection that should make Rachel uncomfortable, but it doesn't. Instead, it seems to settle something within her, being able to _see_ why it is that Quinn chooses Santana to be her best friend.

Rachel didn't understand it before, and she gets the feeling Santana has experienced the same feelings about her, but they obviously both love Quinn, and that's enough for now. If Quinn is happy and relaxed - which, based on the way she's lying against the giant pillows with an easy smile on her face, she seems to be - then what else is there to worry about?

Quinn is careful with her, though, letting Rachel dictate how she wants to be touched. If she wants to be touched, at all.

Rachel does, and it takes a little while for her to settle between Quinn's legs and rest her back against Quinn's front, using her own hands to wrap Quinn's arms around her waist. She's barely concentrating on the animated movie Brittany chose, mainly because she hasn't allowed herself fully to relax, but also because Quinn's fingers have slipped under her shirt and are trailing along the skin of her abdomen.

They're covered by a blanket, thankfully, but she can't help squirming in place, and both Brittany and Santana glance over at them a few times, clear amusement on their faces. Rachel should feel embarrassed, maybe, but Quinn is warm and present, and Rachel is so dangerously in love with her.

Brittany's mother orders pizza for them, and they go into the kitchen to pick their slices and dish some of the salad Brittany's mother insisted on making for them.

Rachel quietly observes, learning all she can about her girlfriend, sure, but also about these people who are bound to become their support system. She watches as Quinn dishes a single slice of pepperoni pizza and a spoonful of Greek salad, only for Santana to nudge her with an elbow.

Quinn takes a second slice.

Rachel kisses her cheek, which gets her a dopey little grin, and Rachel is immensely pleased when Quinn actually finishes her food, even if it takes her an entire hour to do so.

After, while Brittany is scooping out ice-cream for dessert that Quinn won't risk having, Quinn reaches for Rachel's hand and leads her into the house, up the stairs and into a bedroom.

"This is where I stay when I'm over here," she explains, cheeks a little pink. "B's Mom says I'm always welcome. Sometimes, I think she's always known… the way Britt always has."

Rachel just squeezes her fingers, and then frowns when Quinn slips away, moving towards a duffel that's perched on the end of the bed.

"I want to show you something," Quinn says as she opens the bag, digging into it and finding a smaller bag that Rachel vaguely recognises. "I know you're curious," she says, turning to face Rachel; "about the diabetes."

Rachel blinks.

"Thank you for not… asking," Quinn says. "I - I know it's a lot, but I try not to make it so."

"Quinn," Rachel breathes. "I don't care about any of that. I just care that you're healthy."

Quinn sighs. "I have to check my blood glucose," she says. "I'm going to do that now, and I just wanted you to know it's okay if you want to stay for it. Also, you don't have to, obviously, but - but this is a part of my life, and so are you, and I - "

Rachel crosses the space between them, reaching out to cup Quinn's left cheek. "Baby, you don't have to hide any of this from me," she says, and she means it.

Quinn's smile is sad and heavy with something. "It's not something I talk about," she explains as she sits on the end of the bed and pulls Rachel into her lap. "It just - I mean, I don't even talk about it with my family. When I was first diagnosed, they sent me to this counsellor, and that was basically it. We've all read up on it, and we know what needs to be done and what to expect, but…" she trails off and looks somewhere to the left.

Rachel tucks a lock of hair behind her ear and kisses her cheek.

"I get the feeling my parents would like to forget their precious daughter is defective," Quinn confesses, so quietly that Rachel barely catches her words.

Rachel gasps softly, ready with her rebuttals, but Quinn continues before she can speak the words.

"Do you know my father didn't speak to me for two weeks after we first found out?" Quinn says. "My mom told me it was because he was so sad and didn't know what to say, but I overheard them one night, and - " her voice catches. "He said 'what happens to all my plans for her now?' and I think I've never taken it all as seriously as I should because I've _wanted_ to mess up all his stupid plans."

"Quinn," Rachel murmurs, her hands holding Quinn's face and forcing her gaze up. Her own heart is stuttering at the topic of conversation, but she knows all of this is necessary if they're going to be building the kind of relationship that lasts forever. "The risk on your health isn't worth it."

"I know," Quinn agrees. "Turns out, all I had to do is wait a few years to figure out I'm actually gay, just to see his head explode."

There's something so dark about her words, and Rachel closes her eyes, her own heart breaking.

Quinn noses at her cheek, arms secure around her waist. "I have to test at least five, six times a day," she explains quietly. "Before, I used to record everything in this little notebook. Dates and times and everything I've eaten, but I use my phone now. My doctor recommended this app, and it even sends out reminders to test and eat and exercise and all those wonderful things that help me manage my _life with diabetes._ "

She sounds so bitter about it, and Rachel reasons that counsellor did a poor job of helping Quinn accept her diagnosis.

Rachel thinks it's quite the testament that she's seen Quinn test only _once_ before, and that was in the middle of the night and a complete accident. Quinn must be a professional at keeping it all hidden, and Rachel is starting to get the impression her parents must have drilled that into her at a young age.

Because they couldn't have a defective daughter.

Rachel suddenly feels sick, and she draws Quinn into a tight hug, squeezing her hard enough to get an indignant squeak out of the blonde.

Quinn chuckles softly. "I can't breathe."

"I love you," Rachel says, her face pressed against the crook of Quinn's neck. "You have to take better care of yourself. You can't leave me to face the horrors of this world without you."

Quinn stiffens at the sound of those words. "Rach…"

"Promise me?"

Quinn sighs. "I promise."

* * *

Rachel stays and watches, wincing when Quinn pricks her finger and draws a few drops of blood. The number on the test ends up being one-eighty-four mg/dl, and Quinn's face pinches for a beat.

"Is that high?" Rachel asks, making a mental note to read up on diabetes when she gets home. Tonight. The first opportunity she gets.

"Sort of," Quinn says, vague, as she puts the number into her phone. "I might have to test again before I go to bed, but it should be okay."

"And, if it's not?"

Quinn looks at her. "I'm fine, Rachel."

"Would you tell me if you weren't?"

Here, Quinn hesitates, and then sighs. "Possibly," she says. "It would depend, but I'm trying to be as truthful with you as I possibly can. I just don't want you to worry unnecessarily."

Rachel kisses her. There's really nothing else to do in this moment. She shifts from her position beside Quinn and straddles her lap, determined to kiss away all the melancholy and confusion and _ache_ she can see in Quinn's eyes.

It works.

Wow.

It really, really works.

Somehow, Rachel ends up on her back with Quinn on top of her, and there's something _heavy_ about the way they're kissing. It started furious and passionate, but has slowed to something deep and searching, and Rachel can barely catch her breath.

It almost feels as if Quinn is asking her a question, and Rachel is answering as best she can.

The problem is that Rachel can't answer _of course_ when Quinn murmurs _stay_ against her lips. Those hands are splayed over her bare skin, mouth tempted to leave marks, and Rachel's head is wild with _want_.

But she has to go home. She can't stay, because she definitely wasn't going to turn this into some kind of sleepover - with her girlfriend, at Brittany's house - which is why she told her mother she was visiting Mercedes.

Instead, she has Quinn's tongue in her mouth and her legs wrapped around hips that don't know how to be still. Rachel _knows_ Quinn is going to be the first person she has sex with. It's not even a question of who; just the when and where and _how_.

Okay.

She knows more than she possibly should about the how, but Quinn doesn't need to know that until she absolutely _has to_.

Rachel eventually has to force them apart, carefully disentangling them as Quinn groans in complaint. She peppers kisses along Quinn's face in apology. "I have to go," she says.

Quinn groans again, resting her forehead on Rachel's bare collarbone. Because she _is_ bare; her jersey, top and bra somewhere on the floor, and Quinn is in a similar state of undress. If anyone were to ask Rachel how that happened, she wouldn't know.

Maybe tonight could have been the night.

Because, whether Rachel likes it or not, she's very aware of her own age. And Quinn's.

 _Especially_ Quinn's.

Quinn eventually rolls off of her and gets to her feet, looking thoroughly put out and supremely adorable. She fishes for a t-shirt in her bag, and slips it on over her head, casually running a hand through her hair to flatten it.

Rachel moves at a more sedate pace, sighing repeatedly as she redresses and puts on her shoes. The heaviness is back, because this truly is their reality. There's no escaping it.

Not yet.

One day, sure, but they're both too young right now, even though Rachel has never felt so old in her life. This life she's living, and this relationship she's in has almost forced her into a sense of adulthood that she thinks would have evaded her if she remained the precious little princess her mother still wishes she was.

Well.

Sorry to disappoint.

Once she's ready, Quinn draws her into a hug that lasts entirely too long, and she knows she's probably going to have to break a few speeding laws to get home in time.

Still, she kisses Quinn deeply, reminds her to test her glucose, and then holds onto her hand as she leads the way out of the room and down the stairs, where they find Santana and Brittany camped out in the living room. Making out.

Quinn clears her throat, and the pair break apart. "Rachel's headed out," she says, and her voice is low, detached in a way that makes her seem vulnerable.

Brittany gets to her feet immediately and wraps Rachel in a hug. "You have to come back," she says. "My dad makes some of the best burgers."

Rachel believes her. "Definitely," she finds herself saying, and then leans into Quinn when Santana approaches for her farewell.

It's an awkward little wave and a mumbled _you're not half bad, Berry_ later that Quinn is following her out of the house and actually pouting.

Quinn Fabray is properly pouting. Rachel can barely believe it.

"Will I see you again this weekend?" Quinn asks.

Rachel sighs. "Probably not," she answers. "Pete has this work thing tomorrow night and I have to babysit, and we're supposed to visit my mother's parents in Akron on Sunday."

Quinn nods, her pout fading as she seems to accept their grim reality.

"But I'll text you," Rachel tells her. "I'll keep you updated on my boring life, where my bothers ignore me and my grandparents are determined to find me a boyfriend."

Quinn suddenly looks stricken, and Rachel winces.

"It's not as bad as I make it sound," Rachel weakly defends.

Quinn says nothing. Just kisses the side of her neck and breathes her in.

Rachel sighs. "I need to go."

Quinn lets her go, and Rachel slips out the front door, all too aware of Quinn's gaze on her back, boring into her the way only Quinn seems to manage.

That heaviness that hasn't really disappeared is more apparent, now, and Rachel distantly wonders if this is always going to be a part of their relationship.

One of them always walking away from the other while she just stands and watches.


	8. Chapter 8

**VIII**

The heaviness lingers, but it's diluted with everything light that is the ease of her relationship with Quinn. Which is contradictory enough to give her a headache.

Quinn sends her a good morning text every day, normally accompanied with the words _I can't wait to peak at you today_ and _I am so, so in love with you_.

This particular morning, though; the text says, _Can you please meet me in the 2_ _nd_ _floor bathroom before school? I need to talk to you about something_.

Then: _It's nothing bad, I promise. I just want to see you_.

 _Also, I love you_.

Rachel isn't sure what to respond with, so she goes with a smile emoji, followed by a heart. If Quinn says it's nothing bad, then Rachel is going to believe her.

Which is a good thing, because Quinn is smiling when Rachel gets there, and she receives a long, lingering kiss that leaves them both breathless and wanting. And that's it, isn't it?

Rachel _wants_.

"Hello, you," Quinn murmurs, looking so delicious in her cheerleading uniform that is entirely too short and revealing for school. Rachel would complain, even pout about it, but Quinn is hers, and that's what matters.

Rachel kisses her again, right hand cupping the back of her neck and drawing her closer and closer. The opportunities to kiss like this come few and far between, and Rachel wishes they could spend lifetimes just being together.

Quinn is the one to break their kiss, puffing out a breath and nuzzling Rachel's cheek with her nose. "I missed you," she whispers. "And, fuck, I've been looking forward to tonight all week."

Rachel sighs. "What's happened?" she asks, suddenly just knowing their plans have been thwarted.

"I know I promised you and Sarah pizza after the game, but my mom kind of roped me into some Youth Group pot luck thing," Quinn confesses with an exaggerated pout. "She knows Biff is supposed to be there, and I'm meant to be… doing whatever I'm supposed to be doing when it comes to him."

Rachel sighs heavily. "What is it with mothers wanting to set us up with boys that don't remotely interest us?"

Quinn doesn't smile. "She still on you about Finn?"

"She has him in one of her classes, and her favourite thing is to tell me about what endearing thing he did during the lesson," Rachel says with a roll of her eyes. "If only she knew my girlfriend is in _AP_ English."

"Damn," Quinn murmurs. "You're dating a genius."

"Well, she likes to think so."

Quinn's expression settles into a soft smile, and they kind of just stare at each other as the minutes tick by. Quinn eventually yawns, wide and loud, and Rachel can't resist pressing a finger to her nose with a happy little smile, and a soft _boop_.

These are the moments when everything they're going through is worth it. When it's just the two of them, without a care in the world. When they can just be together like this, holding onto each other and being able to smile and touch and just _be_.

Rachel leans forward to kiss her as soon as she's closed her mouth again, and she feels Quinn's lips spread into a smile. "It's okay," she whispers around Quinn's tongue. "We'll figure it out."

"As we do," Quinn returns, and then just hugs her. "You just enjoy your evening, and I'll try not to kill someone while I'm at it."

"Baby. So violent."

Quinn chuckles softly, and then kisses her cheek. "I should probably get going."

Rachel doesn't let her go, rather kissing her lips one last time, breathing a good luck against her skin, and then finally releasing her.

Quinn hovers a while, eyes on Rachel's. "I love you, you know."

Rachel grins at her. "I know."

* * *

It takes exactly fourteen minutes and nineteen seconds for Quinn to consider murdering Biff. She doesn't know when it happened, but the boy is whiny in all the worst ways. Things with Marley aren't taking off, and Quinn realises a little too late that the girl is too smart to fall for Biff's apparent (non-existent) charm.

Which is why she's now left to deal with a boy who's been rejected by her, Marley, and possibly the next person he sets his eyes on.

Katherine Wilde, apparently.

Kitty.

And Biff.

What is it with people and the nicknames? They don't even seem at all complimentary. Maybe they do deserve each other or something. They're both pretentious enough, and Biff seems weirdly set on her - well, beyond his interest on Quinn, that is.

"Are you _sure_ you won't date me?" he asks, and the whine is back. She can't decide if she prefers the douchebag or the whiny toddler at this point.

"I'm certain."

"But why?"

"Because I don't like you," Quinn says, carefully dishing some salad onto her plate while Biff reaches for the spoon for the cottage pie Louise Grisham made sure to bring to this little get together.

"But why?"

Quinn sighs, trying to keep herself calm. "I just don't," she says. "You're not my type."

"I'm everyone's type," he argues. "I'm rich and handsome and definitely going places." He flashes a grin that he probably means to be charming, but it just makes her want to throw up. "I have so much more to offer than Puckerman."

Quinn freezes for a beat, and then turns to look at him. "I don't know where you got it into your head that I'm dating _anyone_ at the moment, let alone Puck," she says very carefully.

"Why else would you say no to me?" he asks. "And, does your father know?"

Quinn turns her entire body, facing him head-on in what is obviously a power-play. She lifts herself to her full height, which is helped by the heeled boots she's wearing. Her face settles into something hard, and he visibly and audibly gulps.

"I am going to say this once, and only once," she says slowly, purposefully. "I am saying no to you because I do not want to date you. It's really as simple as that." Her stare intensifies. "I am not dating Noah Puckerman. I have never dated him. He is my friend, and a very good one at that. Your abnormal fixation with him is actually worrying at this point." She breathes deeply. "I don't want to date you for the same reason I don't want to date him. You're both not my type. It's really just as as simple as that."

Biff frowns, and than asks, "Then, who is your type?" as if he hasn't understood a word she's said.

"Brunettes," she murmurs, and then walks away. Her body is tense, and she really never wants to have to deal with her father ever finding out about Puck. That would just be disastrous, and she wouldn't put it past Biff to make that happen.

Quinn forces herself to take a breath before she looks around the large living space in the McConnell's home for somewhere to sit. Their Youth Group is large on most days, but it's helped that the church splits the children up based on ages. It's the reason Sarah isn't here at the moment. Lucky.

Quinn spots Marley sitting on a chaise by herself, and she feels a strange pang in her heart. Somehow, she just knows she's wronged this girl by sending Biff her way, so Quinn is determined to make up for it in some way. Marley's popularity in the group as a whole isn't very high - definitely nowhere near Quinn's - and Quinn can think of one simple way to rectify that.

Quinn crosses the room towards her, startling her when she settles on the chaise beside her, their knees bumping for a moment.

Marley just looks at her with wide eyes for a moment, before she offers a nervous smile. "Oh, uh, hi, Quinn," she says, her voice cracking.

Quinn smiles, a little charmed. "Hello, Marley," she says. "Mind if I join you?"

"Oh, um, sure," she says, waving her hand and almost stabbing herself with her fork. "It's a free country, after all."

Quinn would beg to differ, but she's not getting into some kind of political debate at the moment. "How are you doing?" she asks.

Marley still looks a little shocked, but she manages to answer, "I'm great. Fantastic, really. This is really great potato salad, isn't it?"

Quinn drops her gaze to Marley's plate to see said potato salad. "I'm sure it tastes great," she says. "Is that what you brought?"

"Oh, no," Marley says, shaking her head rather vigorously. "My mom made apple crumble. It should be out later. For dessert. Because it's apple crumble. Which is a dessert."

Quinn frowns ever so slightly, because it doesn't seem as if Marley is actually breathing. "Are you okay?"

"Just peachy."

Quinn smiles. "I thought you said it was _apple_ crumble."

And, Marley laughs. It seems to surprise her, catching her completely off guard, and she flushes darkly. "Sorry," she says. "It wasn't even that funny." Her eyes widen. "Not that it wasn't funny, because it was, but it wasn't, like, insanely funny or anything."

Quinn's frown deepens.

It takes her entirely too long to realise that Marley is just really, really nervous to be talking to her, and Quinn can't quite figure out why. Is it because she's older? An actual senior talking to a freshman? The Head Cheerleader talking to, well, a nobody?

Quinn doesn't think she's really carried her school status into Youth Group, given not everyone here even goes to McKinley, but Marley seriously looks as if she's about to pass out the longer Quinn sits and tries to talk to her.

Huh?

When someone finally announces that dessert is being served, Marley practically leaps to her feet, making Quinn flinch at the sudden movement.

"Aren't you having dessert?" Marley rushes to ask, all innocence, as she smooths out the small wrinkles in her dress.

Quinn shakes her head. "Coach Sylvester would kill me," she says, which is a handy excuse to have when you don't want to reveal that _sugar_ could possibly kill you.

"Oh, right," Marley says, blinking slowly.

Before Quinn even realises what's happening, Marley has taken her empty plate from her hands and completely disappeared, leaving _Quinn_ as the bewildered one. She's aware she's missing something, and she intends to use the time alone to sort through it.

But Biff uses that moment to bother her once more, dropping into the spot Marley has just vacated and saying, "She told me I wasn't her type, either," and Quinn suddenly thinks she gets it.

Oh.

Right.

Hah.

"And your poor, baby ego can't handle it, huh?" Quinn taunts.

"I don't get it," he complains. "I'm moments away from striking out with Kitty, as well. Why won't you girls just date me already?"

"It's the way you present yourself," she says, taking only the slightest pity on him. "Your forwardness doesn't come across as confidence. It's rather arrogance, and it's off-putting."

"But I'm a catch."

Quinn swats at him. "Get out of my face," she says. "I'm finding it hard to breathe with how much space your ego is taking up."

He grumbles under his breath, but does eventually get to his feet and walk away, doing a good impression of a kicked puppy. She watches him go for a moment before she catches sight of Marley making her return, her entire being nervous as she approaches.

Quinn thinks it means something she's returned at all. She tries to smile as encouragingly as she can manage, and it seems to bolster Marley's steps, the girl eventually retaking her seat and handing Quinn a spoon.

"I figure one taste won't hurt," Marley says, bravely, if you ask Quinn. "My mom makes the best apple crumble in the world. I think you would really regret it if you didn't try it at least once."

Quinn glances into Marley's bowl, catching sight of the small portion of apple crumble, some custard, and a square of brownie angled against the edge.

"Oh, Kitty baked these, apparently," Marley says, and there's a sudden and very significant blush on her face.

Well, okay then.

Seems as if Marley has a thing for blondes, which is actually adorable.

Quinn just smiles as she sticks her spoon into Marley's bowl and scoops up a bit of crumble and custard. She figures she can risk it, if only to make Marley happy. It's an odd feeling, and she wonders about it as she says, "With that ringing endorsement, I basically have no choice," and then puts the spoon in her mouth.

Marley watches her intently, visibly waiting for the verdict.

It tastes really good, but Quinn can practically feel her glucose levels rising. It's like a rush, really, moving through her veins and making her a little lightheaded. She's just glad she's seated for this. "It's really sweet," is the first thing that comes out of her mouth, and Marley's face falls. "But so good," Quinn makes sure to add. "I guess I'm just not used to so much sugar." She makes sure to lick her spoon, anyway, and Marley's tentative smile is back.

This girl seems precious; someone to be protected, and Quinn feels this rush of emotions at the idea that Marley reminds her of Rachel in a way.

Rachel, who is currently at her home, with Sarah and her family. Quinn wonders if Rachel is thinking about her right now, or at all.

She hopes.

"Do you do any baking as well?" Quinn asks Marley, genuinely curious, and the way the girl seems to settle and light up simultaneously helps Quinn with her lingering guilt over goodness knows what.

Overall, the night is somewhat of a success. At least according to her. Biff is successfully off her back - she hopes - which she knows will irk her mother, and Marley seemed more talkative and comfortable by the time the evening is over and Quinn is allowed to leave with her clean dishes and fake smiles.

Quinn almost feels dirty from it all.

The good news is that it's suitably late enough when she gets home that the entire house has already gone to bed. She deposits the dishes in the kitchen, ensures all the lights are off and doors are locked, and then makes her way upstairs to her bedroom.

Quinn can't begin to stop her smile when she spots Rachel asleep in her bed, curled into a tiny ball and half hidden by a mountain of blankets. Quinn wants nothing more than to climb in with her immediately, but she forces herself to change into her pyjamas and visit the bathroom to complete her nighttime routine.

Rachel was really taking a chance by doing this, but Quinn is suddenly appreciative as she checks to make sure her door is locked, and then finally allows herself to slide into bed behind Rachel and curl her own body around hers. Arms hold onto a warm waist, and she breathes out in content.

This is perfect.

For this moment right here, everything is just perfect.

* * *

And, everything _is_.

It's fine.

For once, it truly is just _fine_.

Rachel and Quinn see each other when they can, and they talk endlessly. They haven't been afforded the ease they had for those few hours they spent alone at Santana's house, but Quinn tries, and Rachel tries even harder. There's an alcove in the library they especially like, and there's a spot under the bleachers that has seen a little too much skin for Rachel's liking.

Everything is fine.

But then Sarah says, "I'm trying to figure out what to get Quinn for her birthday," and it sets off a kind of panic in Rachel of which she was unaware she could muster.

Rachel blinks. "Oh," she breathes; "When is that?"

"Tenth of Feb.," Sarah answers, all casual, and Rachel takes out her phone to check her calendar, trying to be casual about working out how many days until Quinn is properly out of reach.

Wow.

Okay.

That's… not a lot of time.

Rachel audibly swallows, and then forces herself to ask, "What are you thinking of getting her?"

Sarah laughs. "Laid."

Rachel coughs. "What?"

She just continues to laugh. "She's just been especially prickly the last few days," she says. "I'm seriously considering calling Puck and asking if he can help out, because she looked murderous when she got back from cheerleading practice the other day."

If Rachel weren't so convinced Sarah was actually joking, she thinks she would actually throw up. The mere idea of anyone else touching Quinn is enough to set her off, but the casual way Sarah degrades her own sister to someone who needs a man to be more approachable makes her burn with something like rage.

Something must show on her face, because Sarah raises her eyebrows and leans back.

"I'm kidding," Sarah says, laughing a little nervously. "Dude."

Rachel forces her face to stop doing whatever it's doing, because now isn't the time to lecture her best friend on the kinds of things she can and can't say about her own gender. They face enough hardships just from the number of men who would say the same thing.

Rachel shifts her attention to the sheet music she's been sorting before Glee is scheduled to start, her jaw tense for a number of reasons.

Quinn's birthday is coming up, and that definitely changes things.

Sarah steps to her side and ducks her head to catch her gaze, which is so much like Quinn that Rachel thinks she would burst into tears if she weren't so determined never to cry ever again. "I'm sorry," Sarah says, and she sounds it. "I don't know why I said that. I don't think that. I just - "

Rachel stops moving, but she doesn't turn to look at her.

"Do you remember what I mentioned to you?" she questions softly; "about how it's like she's… pulling away or however I put it?"

Rachel swallows, and then nods.

"It's getting worse."

Rachel sighs, blinking back tears. "Sarah," she breathes.

"She's barely at home anymore," Sarah continues. "And, when she is, it's basically whenever you're around, and she's usually holed up in her room, anyway."

Well, okay, isn't _that_ revealing?

"She probably likes you more than she does me at the moment," Sarah grumbles, and there's something of a truth to the words. "So, yeah, I want to get her the best present in the world, and I can't think of anything."

For whatever reason, Rachel can't stop her brain from thinking that it doesn't even matter what Sarah manages to conjure up for Quinn.

Rachel's gift is going to be so much better.

* * *

"Sex."

Quinn startles at the word, looking up from her phone's screen where she's just finished inputting her glucose reading for the night. "Excuse me?"

"You're turning eighteen soon," Rachel says, almost analytically; "and I would really like to have sex with you before then."

Quinn sobers at the reminder that she'll be eighteen in just a few weeks. She'll be eighteen, and Rachel will be sixteen, and, while she doesn't know _all_ the intricacies of the law, she's fairly sure their ages are going to prove a problem, if only with the fact Rachel will be a minor, and who knows just what Shelby could stir up if she ever found out?

"Rachel," Quinn breathes, setting aside her phone and giving Rachel all her attention. "That's no reason to rush."

"I know," Rachel says. "But I want to. I want to have as much time as possible to get to _be_ with you."

Quinn is still hesitant. "Are you sure?"

Rachel nods, leaning over to press her lips to Quinn's for a brief moment. "I love you, and I want to be with you. I don't know what happens next week or next month, but today and tonight are certain for me."

"Oh?"

Rachel glances over her shoulder. "We have time," she says. "I - am _I_ rushing _you_?"

"No."

"If you want to wait, we can," she says, and she means it. "I just - "

"You just what?"

"I want you."

Quinn kisses her, hard and sudden, and Rachel moans into her mouth. Probably a little too loud for the dark of the night, the sound echoing around Quinn's bedroom in a dangerous way. "I want you, too," she says. "You have to know that."

"But…?"

"I just don't want us to do this just because we're worried about not being able to," she explains. "It doesn't have to be... a thing."

"But it is, Quinn," Rachel argues. "Don't you see? We have only a small window of opportunity, and, I mean, it's not as if I'm not ready, because I am." Her hand squeezes Quinn's thigh. "I want it to be you." She looks away. "Please don't make me wait however long I have to, just to be with you."

Quinn covers her hand with her own. "Are you sure?"

Rachel nods. "I've never been more sure of anything," she confirms. "It's you. It's always going to be you."

* * *

Quinn has to be the one to plan it, because Rachel wouldn't even know where to start.

But, first, she tells Rachel, "I'm going to have to consult with Santana."

Rachel's eyes widen. "Do you _have_ to?"

Quinn grins at her, carefully sipping her coffee as the two of them enjoy a break during their run at a small coffee shop, under the guise of having a breather. "I'm afraid so."

"But, why?" Rachel whines, looking exactly like a sixteen-year-old. And a puppy. A cute mix, actually, and Quinn just can't stop smiling. She doesn't think she could stop if she were ever forced to. It just feels so easy, being able to sit here and breathe with Rachel.

"I don't know how else we're supposed to engineer time for ourselves," Quinn explains. "And, I mean, Santana knows things I don't about how to do that."

"But then she'll know _why_ we want to be alone."

Quinn laughs. "I'll make her promise not to mention it in front of you."

"Even if she doesn't mention it, she has this… look about her," Rachel says, abandoning her tea. "You won't, like, tell her… stuff, will you? Like, what if I'm bad at it?"

"Impossible."

"Quinn, I'm being serious."

"As am I," Quinn says. "I don't want you to worry too much about this, okay? I'm on the ball about it, and I promise you won't be bad at it."

"But what if I am?"

Quinn leans forward. "Well, then, we'll just have to keep practicing, won't we?" she says, and her voice does a pleasant little drop that makes Rachel's eyes drop to her lips.

Rachel gulps, and Quinn laughs.

"Come on," she says. "Break's over. Time to get that pulse racing again." She grins with mischief, eyes twinkling. "At least you get to keep your clothes on for this activity."

And, Rachel promptly trips over her own feet.

* * *

Rachel knows things.

She knows many, many things. A lot of it is from before they moved to Lima, but she has the general idea of what's involved when two women are intimate. She also knows that she and Quinn need to talk about it a lot more.

The problem is that they don't have time.

It does feel as if they're rushing, but she can't bring herself to stop and think about it any more than she already has. If she has regrets later, she would rather have them for rushing than for waiting. She doesn't want to be waiting forever, anyway, and she doesn't think they could, even if they tried.

Things have been getting hot and heavy since the beginning, and they're already headed in that direction. There's no use pretending otherwise.

Rachel wants Quinn.

Rachel _knows_ things, and she intends to show her.

* * *

"Why is this the first time I'm seeing you in, like, fucking forever?" Puck asks, expertly wrapping his own hands.

Quinn watches, a little mesmerised and a lot jealous. She wishes she could do her own hands that quickly, but hey, she's still a novice at this whole boxing thing. "I've been busy," is Quinn's response, which is an understatement. The juggling act she has to put on is truly exhausting.

Puck pouts. "Too busy for me?"

Quinn punches his arm. "Never," she assures him, because he needs to know he can always call her if he really, really needs her, and she'll always make time for him. "How's your mom? Lana?"

"Mom's good," he says, moving around to set up her bag for her. "She's been picking up a few more shifts, with Lana's birthday coming up. We want to get her a laptop."

Quinn peeks at him, and very carefully asks, "Can I contribute?"

Puck's jaw clenches for a moment. "She might like some accessories," he eventually says. "If you're serious."

Quinn grins at him. "Totally serious. Little Lana is going to lose her shit."

"Oh, definitely," he laughs. "Mom has been reminding her that we don't have the means nearly every day, and I think she's just about giving up on the dream." He shakes his head. "Parenting done right."

Quinn's smile slips, and she looks away from him. Puck doesn't have much, but he does have a family who love him more than anything, and Quinn doesn't think she can realistically say the same for herself. "Let's get started," she says, and Puck doesn't comment.

They work quietly and rather quickly, Quinn working up a sweat rapidly. Her breathing doubles, but she feels lighter and purposeful. Things have been so tense at home, with her father continuously commenting on all her college acceptance letters that should start rolling in soon - half of which her parents won't even know about.

Things with Rachel are great, of course, but Rachel wants to have sex, and that's a little terrifying for Quinn. She wants to, of course. She's even in the middle of making plans for it, but she doesn't know if it's a wise decision to start... when they're just going to have to stop.

She knows, somehow, that they're going to start, either way, and that thought terrifies her.

Eventually, Puck and Quinn start sparring. Just gentle strokes, practicing moves, and Quinn makes the mistake of asking, "Is sex really all that great?" right when Puck is moving to punch, and it actually lands.

"Mother fucker," she hisses, just as Puck says, "Holy shit, Quinn!"

Her gloves prevent her from feeling the damage, but she knows this isn't something she'll be able to hide from her family. She can taste blood and the bottom of her eye is aching.

"I'm so sorry," Puck says as he rips off his gloves. "You caught me off guard. You can't just go around asking about sex."

"Shut up," she snaps. "Just get these things off me."

Puck rushes to take off her gloves, and Quinn stumbles over to the mirror wall to inspect the damage.

"Oh, fuck," she mutters. "Fuck fuck fuckity fuck fuck."

"Quinn, I'm sorry," Puck says, appearing at her side with a frozen bottle of water wrapped in a towel. "Ice it."

Quinn takes it from him without complaint and presses it to her eye, wincing, and then sighing. God, she's so fucked.

"I'm sorry," Puck says again.

Quinn sighs again, deflating. "It's okay," she says. "It was an accident."

Puck risks a step closer. "Why would you even ask me that?"

"I'm curious to know," she tells him.

"But why?"

"Because I'm planning on having sex," Quinn says, eyes back on the mirror to check if her face actually looks as bad as it does. She rolls her eyes when Puck makes a strangled sound. "Don't be an idiot right now."

Puck clears his throat, and then says, "I didn't know you were interested in anyone."

She glances at him. "It's one of the reasons I've been so busy," she informs him.

Puck nods as if he understands, and Quinn wishes she didn't feel as if she were breaking his heart. It's just that she's tried to prepare him for something like this.

Puck might be hers, but she's not his.

"It's not that McIntosh asshole, is it?"

Quinn snorts. "Not a chance," she says, and then wonders if this is the moment she tells him it's not a boy at all. "I have more sense than that."

Puck sighs in relief. "The guy is a creep, you know? Just can't leave well enough alone."

"What do you mean?"

"His mother hired me to work on their pool, and now the dude keeps calling, claiming I broke the pump, but there's never anything wrong with it when I drive all the way out there to check on it."

Quinn grins at him, wincing as pain shoots through her lip. "Maybe he just wants to see your hot ass bent over," she jokes.

Puck twists his neck to look at himself. "I mean, it's a fine ass."

Quinn's smile softens. "I think he's just messing with you because he knows you're my friend and I keep insulting his complete lack of personality whenever I reject him."

"He's a dumb fuck."

"Preach," she says.

"I swear he's actually been following me."

Quinn frowns. That's… weird. "Just, you know, don't react or anything. His father's some hot shot lawyer, and it could get bad for you."

"He just knows which buttons to push, you know," he murmurs darkly.

Quinn just hums, knowing all too well the kind of people the McIntosh family are.

Puck eyes her face closely. "For what it's worth," he says; "if the sex is with the right person, it's always going to be pretty great."

Quinn's smile grows sad. "You know you'll find her, right?"

"You seem pretty convinced she's not you."

Quinn leans against him, dropping her head onto his shoulder. "She's not, Noah," she says. "I wish I could be what you're asking for, but I'm never going to be."

He presses a kiss to the top of her head, and that's the last they speak of it.

It's the last time they speak at all.

* * *

Quinn leaves the boxing gym several minutes after Puck does, only to walk into a complete nightmare.

Puck.

With Biff pinned to the floor, punches raining down on his smug face.

Quinn drops her bag and races towards them, practically tackling Puck off Biff and using her own body to stop him from getting up again. "Stop it!" she shouts. "Stop! Puck, don't! You have to stop. Think about your mom. Lana."

"I am thinking of them!" he spits, clearly enraged. "Fucking entitled asshole! I'm going to kill him!"

"Shut up!" Quinn roars. "Shut up!"

Puck fights against her again, just managing to throw her off and scramble to his feet. Biff is also upright, saying _oh, there's no getting out of this now_ and _your ass is mine, Puckerman_ and _my pool pump is the least of your worries_ and _just like your loco father_ and _look what you did to Quinn's face_ and _you're going to rot away for the rest of life like the nobody you are_.

Quinn sees the moment Puck sees red, and she has just enough time to scream his name before it's all over.

It's just fucking over.

* * *

When Rachel arrives at the Fabray house, she doesn't expect to be met with a sombre, stoic Judy at the door, who looks a little hapless.

Judy says, "Now really isn't a good time, Rachel," and Rachel knows there's a very specific reason neither sister has been responding to her messages.

"Oh," Rachel says, blinking. "Is everything okay?" Her heart stutters at the idea of something being wrong with Quinn. Did she have another diabetic episode? Is she okay?

"Just some family trouble," Judy says, almost shrugging. "Russell and Quinn at it again. They're always so explosive."

Rachel knows there's more to the story. "I - I won't stay long then," she says, suddenly just knowing she needs to get through the door. "I just need to give Sarah my half of the project, and explain what I've already done. I'm sure we'll figure out what to do."

Judy looks trapped for a beat, but she eventually steps back, and Rachel immediately races up the stairs. She bypasses Quinn's room and does exactly what she told Judy she would do.

"We're kind of on lockdown," Sarah explains, looking dejected. "Something happened. Dad and Quinn were yelling stuff about Puck, but I don't know."

Rachel does her best not to react to the sound of his name. She just hugs Sarah, tells her she'll figure out a way to get in contact, and then leaves.

Quinn.

It takes a while for Quinn even to open her bedroom door, but then she's gasping and tugging Rachel into the room. "Thank God you're here," Quinn says, already moving away.

The room is dark, so it takes Rachel a long while to notice the bruising on Quinn's face, and she actually gasps in response.

"Oh," Quinn murmurs. "This is nothing. Just a little boxing accident." She heads back to where Rachel is standing, an envelope in her hands. "Baby, I need you to do something for me, okay? Please. It's really important."

"Anything."

"I need you to take this right here, and I need you to give it to Santana." She places the envelope in Rachel's hands. "You need to tell her they're holding Puck at County. She needs to get this to his mother, if she can, and then she needs to call Franklin Alvarez. He'll know what to do to get Puck off."

Rachel just stares at her, unable to stop looking at her face.

Quinn steps closer. "Rachel, did you hear what I said? Give this to Santana. Puck's Mom. County. Franklin Alvarez."

Rachel finally looks down at her hands, the envelope stuffed to capacity with cash. "Quinn," she gasps, almost dropping it.

"I was saving it for us," Quinn confesses quietly, and then shakes her head. "Puck needs it. Please tell me you'll do what I'm asking. I can't leave, and I can't even contact anyone."

Rachel just nods.

Quinn breathes out in relief, and then kisses her softly. "Thank you," she murmurs. "Thank you, and I'm sorry I'm dragging you into this. I promise I'll explain soon. Just, thank you, and I love you." She kisses Rachel again, lips lingering, and then she's stepping back and Rachel is stuffing the envelope into her jacket.

Rachel hesitates a moment, her fingers reaching out to trace over Quinn's bruises, hating that they exist. "Make sure you ice it," she says.

"I will," Quinn promises, and then Rachel is gone.

Rachel's heart is pounding as she makes her way down the stairs. She peeks into the living room when she passes by, spotting Judy sitting ramrod straight and Russell talking rather tensely into a phone. She manages a quick wave at Judy, who startles at the sight of her, and then Rachel really is leaving.

She drives straight to Santana's house, surprising both Santana's mother and the girl herself when she knocks rather furiously on the door.

Santana steps onto the porch with her, closing the door behind her, and Rachel shoves the envelope in her hands. "Quinn needs you to give this to Puck's mom. He's at County. You need to call Franklin Alvarez."

Santana's entire demeanour shifts at the sound of the words. "What happened?"

"I don't know," she says. "Just that the sisters are on lockdown and Puck is in trouble. I don't know much else." The image of Quinn flashes in her mind and she hates this. Hates it with a passion.

"Okay," Santana says. "I'll take care of it."

"What are you going to do?"

"Whatever I have to."

* * *

Rachel doesn't hear anything from either sister or even Santana the rest of the weekend, and she isn't sure what to expect when she shows up at school on Monday morning. Puck doesn't go to William McKinley, so she doesn't expect any actual news to have reached the school about whatever may have happened.

Of course, Rachel has had time to speculate about the events leading up to a Fabray lockdown, Quinn's bruises and Puck ending up arrested, but she's sure whatever scenarios she's managed to conjure up aren't quite right.

All she knows is Quinn wouldn't have tried to bail Puck out if her injuries were his fault, right? God, did he react badly to Quinn possibly coming out to him? Rachel will kill him herself, if that's the case. She'll slaughter him. Seriously.

It's still early enough that the school corridors aren't too full, and she drops off her bag in her locker before going out on a limb and heading to the bathroom when she and Quinn sometimes meet. She doesn't remember seeing her car, or even Sarah's in the parking lot, but it wouldn't hurt to try.

She finds the bathroom empty when she gets there, which is both a disappointment and a relief. Quinn isn't here, but neither is anyone else. She still has time, so she decides to wait.

It takes two minutes and fourteen seconds for the door to open and Quinn to walk in. Her eyes widen when she sees Rachel, and she immediately shuts the door and locks it. She stalks right up to Rachel, grabs hold of her hand and pulls her into a cubicle. She closes and locks that door as well, drops the lid of the toilet, flops down and practically tugs Rachel into her lap, wrapping arms around her and burying her face in the warmth of her neck.

Rachel is just about to question what's actually happening when Quinn lets out a shuddering breath and sobs out an, "He's gone," in a voice that cuts deep into Rachel. "They're gone."

Rachel isn't sure exactly what that means, but she wraps her own arms around Quinn and threads the fingers of her one hand through soft blonde hair. She hums softly, trying to soothe her, absently worrying the way Quinn is shaking is going to end up with her dumped on the floor.

But Quinn's hold remains firm as she moves through her own emotions, leaving Rachel confused and wondering, though unwilling to question just what's happening.

Eventually, Quinn's calms enough to let out one last shaky breath and lift her head. Her cheeks are wet, and Rachel can see the bruises through the makeup she's put on to hide them, the concealer having run from Quinn's tears.

Her own body tenses at the sight, fingers automatically reaching to touch.

Quinn doesn't even flinch, her eyes rather tracking the movement. She's ready for it, and Rachel fingers ghost over her skin.

"Baby, what happened to you?" Rachel asks.

Quinn sighs. "It was an accident," she says, the words coming out hoarse. "We were at the boxing gym. It's where I sometimes go on Saturdays, before I head to Santana's. Puck is usually there, and we were sparring, and one of his punches landed, but, God, it was a fucking _accident_." Her voice gets a little high, and Rachel reasons she's been having this same argument for hours and hours.

Rachel leans in to press a soft kiss to her unbruised cheek, just needing to feel her.

"He - he left before me," Quinn says. "You know, us girls take so long to get ready, and he needed to get home to help his mom with something, and, fuck - " she stops and closes her eyes tightly. "He's so fucking stupid. I _told_ him to leave Biff alone. I _told_ him to be the bigger man and walk away and not give in to the taunts."

Rachel's frown deepens, but she thinks she's starting to understand just what's happened.

"I begged my dad, Rach," she whispers. " _Begged_. On my fucking knees, to help him. Because Puck is good. God, he's so, so good, and my dad refused. He didn't even care that he was essentially letting Biff and his father railroad a _boy_ , for something so - for _nothing_."

Rachel just holds her close, unable to witness the devastation on Quinn's face.

"He's gone," Quinn says again. "He's gone, Rachel, with his mom and his sister. He's gone, and I know he hates me, and I didn't even get to tell him I'm sorry, and I wish - I just - I can't - "

"Baby, baby," Rachel soothes.

"I hate him," Quinn says, and Rachel knows she's not referring to Puck, but her father. "I knew he was like this, but it's so much worse actually getting to see it."

Rachel runs a hand over her hair. "I'm sorry," she says, even though she knows it means very little. Rachel didn't even _meet_ Puck, but he obviously meant a lot to Quinn, and Rachel wishes her girlfriend weren't hurting this way. "I'm sorry."

They both know it's nowhere near enough.

* * *

When Quinn seems to have cried herself out, Rachel helps her get cleaned up, even reapplying her makeup, because the last thing Quinn needs right now is people asking questions.

There is a moment, while Rachel is working, that Quinn catches her wrist to stop her and says, "Do you see? Do you see why he can never know about us?"

Rachel's jaw clenches, but she nods. She doesn't tell Quinn that she's more afraid of what her own mother will do than what Russell Fabray will.

"I have to protect you," Quinn says, and she sounds solemn and determined.

"You are, Quinn," Rachel tells her. "Every single day, you are protecting me."

Quinn leans forward to kiss her so, so softly. "I am in love with you," she murmurs. "I am so in love with you."

Rachel isn't sure exactly why Quinn is telling her this right this moment, but they probably both need to hear it.

"Everything is going to be okay," Quinn says, but it sounds more like a question.

Rachel kisses her lips, just once. "Everything is going to be okay," she confirms, and then looks up to the sky, hoping the Universe doesn't turn her into a liar.

* * *

Time has essentially run out on any of their potential plans to be _together_ together, and Rachel tries not to be too bitter about it. It might be a sign from the Universe, letting them know they're not actually as ready as they like to think they are to take that next step in their physical relationship, even though every time they come together seems to suggest otherwise.

So, Rachel almost expects Quinn to put off their plans entirely, given everything that's already happened, but she gets the shock of her life when Quinn catches her in a corridor and very casually says, "Pack your bags," with a naughty glint in her eye.

Well.

Rachel's own body reacts to the thought of what's about to happen by tensing and then feeling warm, her eyes tracking Quinn's as she moves right past her and further down the corridor as if she hasn't just made some kind of sexual promise.

It's all Rachel can think about.

Quinn sends a text with more details later that evening, and Rachel can barely contain herself long enough to register that she and Quinn - she and Quinn - are going to spend an evening together. Alone. In an actual hotel room.

Wow.

Okay.

They're going into Columbus, apparently. The two of them, and Santana and Brittany. Santana, already eighteen, has already reserved two rooms at a decent hotel in the city, and they have another separate reservation for dinner just the two of them.

It's exciting and terrifying, and Rachel wants time both to slow down and to speed up so she can finally be in Quinn's arms and _stay there_.

Preferably for forever, if anyone were to ask her.

Not that anybody actually would.

Except maybe Quinn, but Rachel's perhaps too embarrassed to answer honestly. Which is absurd, given she has the very real intention of taking her clothes off in front of the girl and letting her touch her. For some reason, it just seems easier to be physically vulnerable rather than emotionally, and she wonders if that's an entirely different problem she'll need to work through at some point.

For now, though, she has a Saturday trip to Columbus to look forward to, and a mother she needs to attempt to fool. It's easier now that Sarah is a trusted place to go. Something about their relationship doesn't set off alarms for Shelby, and Rachel knows to make sure never to mention Quinn.

Rachel gets the impression her mother doesn't mind having her out of the house, and, while the truth stings, she's determined to use it to her advantage at least this once.

Her mother lets her go with little fanfare.

Which is really how she finds herself in the backseat of Santana's SUV, Quinn's head in her lap, on their way to Columbus on Saturday afternoon.

The entire thing is borderline absurd, really, because she never would have dreamed of something like this at the start of the year. She's just Rachel Berry, and now she's in a car with the three most popular girls in school. It's unheard of.

Her fingers play with Quinn's hair, hazel eyes focused on a book Rachel is sure she's not even reading. She's rather singing along to the radio, her leg bopping to the beat. She looks so, so relaxed, and Rachel can't resist leaning down to kiss her forehead.

Quinn startles a little, but smiles, pleased. She tilts her head back for an actual kiss, and Rachel is all too happy to oblige. It's meant to be chaste; just a peck, but Quinn's left hand slides onto her hair to hold her head in place, and they end up kissing until Santana says, "Oi, not in my backseat. Save if for later."

Rachel flushes darkly as they break apart, but Quinn just kicks the back of Santana's seat.

"Later," Quinn promises her.

The word rings in her head as they enter the city, Santana steering them towards the hotel. Later. At some point, that 'Later' is going to turn into 'Now,' and Rachel still can't figure out if she's actually ready for it.

In the end, it rushes at her without her even realising. Santana checks them into the hotel and they slip into their separate rooms, and it's the last time either she or Quinn even sees the other two girls until the morning.

The first thing she and Quinn do is actually catch a nap. The entire thing is ridiculous, really, but there's just something so comforting about being able to crawl onto the bed and fall asleep with Quinn wrapped around her, and not have to worry about a parent or Sarah knocking on the door.

She's never felt so relaxed in her life, and, while her sleep doesn't last too long, she's able to lie there and enjoy the warmth and presence of her very gorgeous girlfriend.

After, they each catch a shower and get dressed a little smartly. They're going on an actual date first, and Rachel feels the anxiety and excitement rumble within her. It's the city, so she's less worried, but there's always going to be a niggling fear that follows her, and she can't bring herself to hold onto Quinn's hand as they walk towards the restaurant because of it.

She makes up for it by linking their arms, which is considered slightly more socially acceptable.

If Quinn feels anything about it, she doesn't show it. She rather just talks about the various shops they walk past, her upcoming presentation on CERN for her Physical Sciences class and the stress of dealing with the ancipation of college acceptance/rejection letters.

They don't mention Puck.

Rachel, somehow, just knows they are never ever going to be talking about him again.

The restaurant Quinn picks actually has vegan options, and Quinn says, "I thought you might like to try it out," with an easy smile. "You keep talking about it."

"Are you going to try with me?"

Quinn winces, but eventually says, "Yeah, okay, sure."

Rachel has never loved her more, which is a sentiment that grows and grows as the evening progresses. Quinn is so present, relaxed in a way Rachel doesn't think she's ever seen her. It's almost as if Quinn recognises she's as free as she can possibly be in this moment, and she's just going to roll with it.

She's stunning.

She's also Rachel's, and that hasn't been more apparent until they're returning to their hotel room and constantly sneaking glances at each other. They both know what's coming, which is why it's a surprise when it doesn't immediately happen. Quinn closes the door behind them, and Rachel has this sudden desire to fling herself at the other girl, but she controls herself.

First, Quinn removes her coat, scarf and shoes, and then switches the overhead light to the lamp at the bedside. The atmosphere in the room shifts then, and still Rachel stands, watching Quinn move until there's nothing else left but to approach her.

Quinn does it slowly, coming to a stop right in front of her. "Hi," she says, a tiny smile on her face.

"Hi," Rachel murmurs, her breath catching when Quinn begins to unwrap her scarf for her. Then her coat, which slides off her shoulders and ends up hanging off the back of the desk chair.

Quinn meets her gaze. "Are you sure?" she asks so, so softly.

All Rachel can really do is nod her head.

Quinn kisses her slowly, almost too carefully, as if she's trying to give her this time to change her mind. As if she's making sure Rachel knows they don't have to do anything at all; that it's okay to say no, even now that they're here.

Rachel appreciates it, but it's unnecessary.

The kiss deepens at her insistence, her mouth opening and her arms sliding around Quinn's shoulders to bring her closer and closer still.

"I love you," Rachel murmurs against her lips. "I love you, and I want this. I want you."

It's maybe the final confirmation Quinn needs, because her touch becomes surer, less hesitant and definitely purposeful. Quinn touches her as if she's something precious; something revered, something to be worshipped, and Rachel thinks she might actually start crying if she's not careful.

She does, eventually.

 _Cry_.

Nineteen minutes later, when she comes for the first time with Quinn's name on her lips, her eyes screwed shut and Quinn's breath hot against her ear, it is everything she's ever imagined it would be, but also so much more.

Quinn panics at the sight of her tears, but Rachel just laughs, wants to tell her how much she loves her, but rather endeavours to _show_ her instead.


	9. Chapter 9

**IX**

One night is really all they get.

The morning after, Rachel wakes to Quinn playing with her hair, a gentle smile on her face and eyes that shine with so much love that Rachel wants to freeze this moment for all of eternity.

"Hi," Quinn whispers, and then kisses her so gently that the world may as well not even exist at all. If Rachel isn't careful, she's probably going to start crying. Again.

Quinn's lips move over her cheek and along her jaw, as she shifts the covers up and rolls onto Rachel, skin pressing against skin. Her movements are slow and purposeful, hands determined and already put to work.

Okay.

So maybe they get the morning, as well.

* * *

Santana shoots them a particularly salacious look when they all meet in the restaurant downstairs for a late breakfast, but, true to Quinn's word, the Latina says nothing about it.

* * *

Something has changed.

In Rachel.

She can practically feel it in every breath and every step she takes. She's always felt older than she is, but there's something about being in this committed, true relationship with this other human being that makes her feel aged in a way that she's not sure is actually a good thing.

She replays their time together over and over, her mind turning over every touch and every kiss, committing it all to memory. She never wants to forget a single detail; the way Quinn's fingers danced across her skin, or the way Quinn's voice repeatedly caught on her name.

And, the best part is that she's not the only one, because it's obvious Quinn is as caught up in the memories as she is.

 **Lucas** : _God, I can't stop thinking about you._

 **Lucas** : _And your hands_.

Rachel flushes at the sight of the words, and she's relieved she's managed to close herself in her bedroom before she read the text. Her body is practically tingling with the ghost of Quinn's touch, and the last thing she needs is to experience some kind of vivid sex-memory in front of her family. How on earth would she even begin to explain that?

 **Rachel** : _These hands miss touching you_.

She feels a little ridiculous after she's sent it, because this has never really been a part of their conversations, and it seems dangerous to start now, when there's very little they'll be able to do about it in just a few days.

They've talked about.

It was an unfortunate, painful conversation, but they're both very aware of what is supposed to happen now. She just wasn't expecting it to be so difficult.

Before, it was some abstract thing, but now Rachel knows what Quinn tastes like. How did she ever think they were going to move past this? Why did she ever think this was the lesser evil? Wouldn't it have been better not to know what she was missing?

Things are going to have to change, she knows. There's going to be an added danger to their interactions, even if they remain as innocent as possible. Because it won't even matter, otherwise, if ever Shelby finds out, or if Russell learns about the true nature of their relationship.

It could even go beyond their parents, if they're not careful, so Rachel knows they're going to have to be.

Extra careful, actually.

Even more than that.

For now, though, she's going to remain thinking about Quinn's hands and Quinn's body and, God, Quinn's voice. It's too late to rewind time and take it all back now, and she's not going to convince herself she actually regrets it, because she doesn't.

Maybe not today, she doesn't.

But she will, one day.

* * *

Quinn's birthday brings with it a sense of melancholy, and the only people who even know why are her two best friends and her girlfriend. It just feels disingenuous to be celebrating some kind of milestone when it also marks something of an end of the single most important relationship she's ever had.

"I don't understand why you're being so dramatic about it," Santana says, spread out on Quinn's bed. "It's not like you can't still date. Just, you know, without the whole legal grey area."

Quinn rolls her eyes. "We're in a safe zone, don't worry, and it isn't even about the sex."

"Then, what is it?"

Quinn turns away from her desk to face her, dropping the volume of her voice. "She's paranoid, okay, and my being eighteen just gives her mother more ammunition to use against us, just in the fact Rachel is still a minor, if she ever finds out."

Santana scowls. "That woman sounds like the devil."

Quinn sighs. "I - I mean, it's not like we won't see each other," she says. "We have dinner scheduled for next Saturday, which is… _something_ , I guess." She puffs out a breath. "When I get out of here, we might stand more of a chance. We don't really know what could happen, but she joked about the idea of emancipation the other say, which is also bolstered by the fact I could probably support us, but - "

Santana sits up, her eyes wide. "Jesus Christ, Quinn," she says. "This sounds fucking serious."

"I don't know what about anything I've ever said about her gave you the impression I wasn't talking about forever," she points out. "I _love_ her, Santana. I - I don't know how I'm supposed to wait two years to be with her."

Santana shifts to sit on the edge of her bed. "You're going to have to."

Quinn nods, defeated. "I know," she says. "Which is why I hope you won't take it too personally that I'm not really excited about my birthday."

Santana nods. "Okay, yeah, I get that," she says. "What can I do?"

Quinn shakes her head. "There's really nothing you _can_ do," she says. "Unless you have some kind of time machine and can fast forward _this part_."

"I don't," Santana says; "but my girlfriend is a genius, so there's always the possibility."

Quinn offers her a small smile. "Britt really _is_ a genius, isn't she?"

"Maybe she'll be able to come up with something," Santana says. "It doesn't have to be all doom and gloom, babe. We're here for you. I hope you know that."

"I know," Quinn says, and then sighs. "I just wish - "

There's no need for her to complete her sentence, because they already wish for the same thing.

* * *

Quinn is, somewhat magically, able to avoid her parents throwing her the same kind of spectacle as they did for Sarah. It might be her eighteenth birthday, and it might even fall on Friday, but Quinn guilts them into just having a small family dinner with just the four of them that is weirdly tense, before she heads over to Brittany's to mope.

And gets the shock of her life when she steps into Brittany's basement and finds Rachel Berry sitting on the couch, casually reading a magazine with Brittany peeking over her shoulder.

Quinn almost bursts into tears.

Rachel looks up when she's still on the steps, and she smiles so widely that Quinn's eyes actually do tear up. It's pathetic. She's a mess, and she just doesn't want anything to change.

Brittany gets to her feet and moves towards her, wrapping her in a hug so tight that Quinn squeaks in surprise, and a bit of pain, if she's being honest. Brittany says something in her ear, but Quinn isn't even listening to her, eyes locked on Rachel.

Then Brittany is gone, leaving Quinn alone with Rachel for the first time in what feels like forever - when, in reality, it's been only a few days.

"Hi," Rachel says, getting to her feet and moving towards where Quinn is frozen in place. Like Brittany, she hugs a very stiff Quinn Fabray, and then kisses her cheek. "Happy birthday, my love."

It seems to snap something in Quinn, because she suddenly reaches for Rachel, wrapping arms around her waist and holding her close enough that their entire bodies are pressed together from knee to chest.

And mouths.

Quinn kisses her hotly, almost desperately. This is their last night. They've already decided they're going to try to… cool off, or whatever impossible thing they've set for themselves. Whatever it is, it feels monumental, and Quinn hates it.

Despises it.

They both know the age of consent is sixteen, which is what Rachel is, and they, technically haven't done anything wrong, and wouldn't even beyond today, but it's just safer for them both to keep it PG, as it were. Not while Shelby is breathing down their necks.

Rachel tugs on her coat, sliding it off her shoulders until it hits the floor. There's something about those hands now, fumbling with the buttons of her shirt and tugging on her belt, guiding her to the couch and pushing her down rather forcefully.

Then Rachel is straddling her lap and they're kissing as if the world is about to end. It feels as if it is. Quinn's fingers dig into Rachel's thighs, nails raking over her skin, and Rachel grinds against her. There are restless fingers in her hair, tugging on the strands, and then lips on her neck, probably going to leave marks.

Like she cares.

Rachel gets her shirt completely open, and then freezes at what she finds. "What is that?" she squeaks, staring at Quinn's chest as if she's never seen it before.

Quinn looks down for a beat, and then grins at her. "It's my birthday present from Sarah," she explains.

Rachel blinks. "You're not wearing your cross," her mouth says before she can stop it.

Quinn's smile slips from her face, and Rachel wants to kick herself. "No, I'm not," she says, her fingers lifting to fiddle with the new pendant hanging around her neck. "I - I don't think I want to be wearing it anymore, anyway."

Rachel suspects she shouldn't, but she still asks, "Why?"

Quinn wraps her arms around Rachel's waist and brings her forward, burying her face in Rachel's chest. "It doesn't feel right," she murmurs. "I - I thought I had it all figured out. Being with you and - and being a church-goer, but I don't - I can't - it feels - "

Rachel won't pretend to understand what it's like for Quinn, given they don't really discuss religion, but she imagines it must be something of a crisis within her, especially now that they've taken this step in their physical relationship.

Quinn kisses her exposed collarbone. "Sarah got me this necklace," she says. "It's similar to the one I got for her. She says she wants us to match." She stops, her brow slightly furrowed. "She was weirdly emotional about the whole thing."

Rachel kisses the top of Quinn's head, her heart aching for both sisters.

"She wanted to come with me tonight," Quinn explains quietly. "I - I just - how am I supposed to have my breakdown in front of her, when she doesn't even know I feel like the whole fucking world is against us?"

Rachel smooths a hand over Quinn's hair. "I bet she brought out the pout?"

"That thing is dangerous," Quinn complains. "She - she's really good at making me feel like the worst sister in the world." She shakes her head. "It's like she inherited it from my father, who's convinced I'm a failure of a daughter."

"Quinn, please don't say that," Rachel immediately counters.

Quinn sighs against her. "Can we talk about something else?" she murmurs.

Rachel feels a grin slowly spread across her face. "Well, baby, we don't have to talk at all."

* * *

In the morning, Quinn _feels_ it.

Everything has changed.

Rachel isn't lying beside her, but Quinn still tastes her on her tongue, the ghost of her fingers lingering on her skin. It shouldn't hurt as much as it does, but it does.

Quinn rolls onto her side and curls into a tiny ball, her heart aching for what is now their new reality.

She's resolved to see it through, though.

They'll figure it out.

It's just a thing they're going to have to do.

Simple.

* * *

It's a valiant effort.

It truly, truly is.

But, they were always going to fail… and it is the one thing that could ruin them.

* * *

It starts the Friday before the Glee Club's Saturday Regional competition.

Somehow, through some invisible Mom-Force, Shelby has managed to weasel Rachel into inviting Sarah over for dinner at their house. Rachel thinks she only agrees because of the news they've just learned about the fate of their Club.

Sue Sylvester is coming for them, and, _when_ they lose, the entire program is going to be scrapped. It's sad, and all Rachel really wants is to have Quinn hold her and assure her everything is going to work itself out, but all she gets is a string of texts that just pale in comparison to the comfort she craves.

And now she has to sit through an entire dinner with her family, and Sarah. Normally, it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world, but Rachel can tell Sarah is curious to learn more about her, Shelby wants to learn more in the other direction - because, obviously, Rachel's best friend would know all her secrets - and Rachel's brothers seem determined to embarrass her.

All she needs is to throw in her secret girlfriend, and it'll be the stuff of dreams.

Shelby makes lasagna, which is maybe the only thing she can make really well. If that doesn't tell Rachel just what kind of impression she wants to make on Sarah; Rachel doesn't know what does.

It's weird, though, and Rachel can't figure out why Shelby is even this interested until the woman very casually says, "Maybe you can help me understand why my daughter seems to show no interest in Finn Hudson," to Sarah.

And, Rachel hates her.

Sarah blinks in surprise, her fork halfway to her mouth. "Uh," she stutters. "I don't know. She just doesn't seem to like him."

Rachel glares at her mother, because of course this is actually all just a ploy to figure out if Rachel has confessed her sexuality to Sarah. For the first time, Rachel is _so_ relieved she actually hasn't, because Sarah is kind of a terrible liar. It's cute, sure, but she's exactly the type of girl Shelby would be able to tear apart without even trying.

"Do you think that's really it?" Shelby asks, rather pointedly.

"Shel," Pete murmurs.

Sarah looks between them, her brow furrowed. "I mean, sure," she says, and then grins. "But he's also, like, really tall."

* * *

"So… that was weird," Sarah comments from her position on Rachel's bed, her limbs spread out as she lies on her back and stares at the ceiling.

"Which part?" Rachel scoffs, carefully scrolling through her _iPod_ for some music. Hmm. Kings Of Leon seems like a good pick.

"All of it?"

Rachel sighs as she picks _Closer_ , and then goes to lie on her bed beside Sarah, tucking herself into a little ball on her side as she faces the other girl. "It's… complicated."

"It's also not the first time the topic of Finn has come up," Sarah points out, her forehead slightly creased. "Why does she want you to date him so badly?"

Rachel contemplates her response for a long, long while. This could be the moment she could come out, but it's too dangerous. Her mother was checking to see if Rachel has already told her, sure, but she's also just warned her not to.

Right in front of sweet, oblivious Sarah.

"I don't know," Rachel finally says, hating herself a little, but hating her mother that bit more. "Maybe she's just worried that I'm not showing any interest in anyone else, and she just doesn't want me to end up alone."

"Dude, you're sixteen," Sarah points out with a soft laugh. "You have your entire life to find your 'one and only.'"

Rachel licks her lips, because she's pretty sure she already has.

"I mean, I kind of have to believe that, too," Sarah says, sounding slightly sombre. "I'm not interested in anyone, either." She sighs. "Moms are weird."

Rachel can't help but agree.

Sarah rolls onto her side to match Rachel's position and asks, "Do you think we're going to lose tomorrow?"

Rachel sighs. "I can only hope not," she says. "I think we're good, and I think we deserve the chance to keep our Club."

"I talked to Quinn about it," Sarah says. "It's like the first time we've talked about anything real in forever, and she said that she could try to talk to Coach Sylvester if she has to. Like, after, when we know for sure or whatever."

Rachel doesn't tell Sarah that she and Quinn have already had this conversation as well, because it seems cruel. Quinn is doing the best she can, Rachel knows, but Rachel _hates_ seeing the lost look in Sarah's eyes. As if she knows she's losing the family she's always known, and there's nothing she can do to stop it.

Rachel just knows it's going to devastate her when it happens, and Rachel is going to be part of the cause of it. Rachel can only hope Sarah won't hate her.

With a sigh, Rachel reaches for one of Sarah's hands and holds it to her chest. It's something of an intimate moment, and Sarah actually flushes. "I think everything is going to be okay," Rachel says.

Sarah looks at her with eyes that are so much like Quinn's. "Promise?"

"I promise."

* * *

It turns into just one of many promises Rachel is unable to keep.

* * *

They lose Regionals, and it is devastating.

It feels as if it's the beginning of the end of everything, and Rachel is desperate to hold onto what she can. She needs - she just wants -

But then Quinn is dragging her into her bedroom and shoving a letter into her hands, all while sporting a smile on her face Rachel knows has nothing to do with her.

"Look," Quinn says, eye bright.

Rachel looks, taking in the word _Yale_ and _Congratulations_ , and she feels nothing but despair. Because Quinn is leaving. She's going to leave her here, with all of these people who _don't even know her_. And, what's worse is that Santana and Brittany will be gone as well.

Rachel will have nobody.

 _Nobody_.

It snaps like an elastic in her mind and she drops the sheet of paper on the ground before launching herself at Quinn. She's not thinking of anything else, and Quinn just manages to catch and support her without the two of them going tumbling to the floor to join the acceptance letter.

"Rach - " Quinn starts, but Rachel cuts her off with a searing kiss that leaves very little in question about her intent.

And the worst part - or the best - is that Quinn kisses her right back, her body giving in without her brain's consent, and the air in the room practically ignites. It's been so hard, already, keeping their hands to themselves, and now Rachel is telling her she can touch.

Fuck.

Quinn wants to touch.

No.

She breaks away quite suddenly, stumbling back to put some distance between them. "Baby, what are you doing?" Quinn asks, breathless.

Rachel can't explain herself. It's just too much and not enough at the same time. The world just keeps spinning madly on, and the only thing she has any control over is this moment right here. Where Glee is over, she can never _talk_ to Sarah and Quinn is going to Yale.

"Quinn," Rachel breathes, and then reaches for her again.

"We can't," Quinn says, keeping her gaze on her hands as she shakes her head. "We can't."

Rachel is not against using her own body to torture Quinn, and they both know it. They're also both aware they definitely shouldn't be doing this. Not now. God. Not ever.

Rachel reaches for her again, tugging her closer.

"Rachel," Quinn says; almost pleads. "I don't - we can't - "

Rachel ignores her and closes the space between them. "I want you."

"This isn't because I don't want you," Quinn makes sure she knows. "I know you know that."

"Then, what's the problem?" Rachel asks, and she thinks she's almost daring Quinn to say it.

Instead, Quinn gives her an incredulous look. "Baby, there are only so many ways to explain my hand down your pants if we get caught," she says, deadpan, as if that's the glaring problem in this moment.

"Then we won't get caught."

"I don't know if you know this, Rach, but you seriously don't know how to be quiet."

"I totally can."

Quinn rolls her eyes. "I know I've spent only, uh, two amazing nights with you, but it's enough to know that's not true." It's the wrong argument to be making, she knows, because the reasons for saying no are much more far-reaching.

Reasons neither of them are even willing to say out loud.

Still, Quinn won't be able to resist, and they both know it. It's a little pathetic, predictable and Quinn would be embarrassed if Rachel wasn't now reaching for her t-shirt and tugging her closer and closer.

"Please," Rachel murmurs, and it's this single word in this voice that _breaks_ Quinn.

Quinn tilts her head back and groans, asking the Universe for willpower it does not give. "Fuck," she breathes, and then kisses Rachel so fiercely; she's sure her lips are going to bruise.

Definitely worth it.

Quinn starts to touch her, hands moving over her skin, but - they have to stop. Fuck. They can't do this. They really, really can't do this.

Rachel groans, annoyed, when Quinn pulls back. "Please," she says. "God, can you just kiss me already?"

Still, Quinn hesitates, because they both know it's going to lead somewhere it definitely can't. They shouldn't be doing this. It's too dangerous. It's -

Rachel tugs on her shirt, and they're kissing again. It's hot and heavy, and Quinn's body is lighting up at the feel of Rachel squirming against her; _wanting_ her.

"Quinn," Rachel breathes, her eyes tightly shut as she wills her body to calm down - and fails spectacularly. "Can we - please just - fuck - nobody has to know."

Quinn freezes.

Rachel's eyes snap open, as if she's just heard her own words. She replays them in her head, and then finds herself nodding. "Nobody has to know," she repeats, as if confirming her own thoughts

Quinn looks right into her eyes, her own body charged and desperate for release. She's supposed to be better than this; she's supposed to have more control. Her head is supposed to be stronger than her body's basic instincts.

But, God, she's a stupid, horny teenager, and her girlfriend is fucking gorgeous, and said girlfriend is saying it's okay.

"Quinn," Rachel almost pleads. "Nobody has to know."

Quinn debates over and over, because this is dangerous. This isn't something they can ever come back from. The consequences are much more than Rachel's mother finding out and moving their family out of state.

This is so much more than that.

But Rachel slides her hand around her neck and drags her head back down. "Nobody has to know," she repeats. Then: "Please." And a heavy, meaningful kiss that has Quinn's brain shutting down completely.

Quinn allows herself to forget; to relinquish control.

Just for a little while.

Just this once.

That's all.

If Rachel wants her like this, then Quinn is going to give all of her.

And it is beautiful.

* * *

In the morning, Quinn says, "We can't do that again."

Rachel looks her square in the eye and says, "Okay, Quinn."

* * *

They do it again.

* * *

And again.

* * *

"We have to stop."

Rachel wonders, almost belatedly, if she should be taking this more seriously. She _did_ , of course, for a time, but something seems to have changed within her - and within them. There's a certain recklessness that's creeped into their relationship, and Rachel _knows_ , without a doubt, that they won't be able to stop.

They never could have dreamed of stopping, and it was futile even to try.

She also knows that, even if they hadn't rushed into starting before Quinn's birthday, they would have found their way to this moment, where Quinn has her pinned to the door with a hand down her pants, mouth pressed to her neck and inhibitions lost to the world.

They don't have much time before Sarah is out of the shower, even if she usually takes an eternity. It's really because Quinn constantly wastes time trying to resist what they both already know is going to happen.

Rachel's arms tighten around Quinn's shoulders, and Quinn squeaks in pain.

"Baby, easy," she warns.

"I'm so close," Rachel pants, and then bites back a moan when Quinn redoubles her efforts. She's forced to sink her teeth into Quinn's shoulder when her orgasm finally hits, and Quinn hisses from how much it ends up hurting.

Pain is pleasure, and all that.

After, Quinn says, "We have to stop," again, but she's not even looking at Rachel when she says it and she doesn't sound as if even she believes they could.

This time, Rachel doesn't even bother with a response.

* * *

Which is just confirmed a few days later, when the two of them are sitting at the piano in the Choir Room. It's late enough in the evening that Quinn doesn't look as tense as she normally would. The corridors are empty, and Rachel feels as if it's just the two of them in the entire world.

It feels surreal that this is the first time she's even hearing Quinn play the piano, and her heart stutters at how much they've actually missed out on learning about each other because they've had to keep everything so secret.

"Okay," Quinn says around a handful of notes. "So, maybe, we _can't_ stop."

Rachel shouldn't feel smug, but she kind of does. Her fingers trail over the bare skin of Quinn's lower thigh. "It's going to be okay," she says.

Quinn looks as if she's ready to argue some point again, but her mouth rather just closes and her shoulders slump. "Yeah, okay, sure."

Rachel kisses her shoulder, and then rests her head there, allowing the soft sounds of Quinn's playing to soothe her. She's playing something Rachel doesn't recognise, and it strikes her that there's probably a hell of a lot in that blonde head she still has to figure out.

Rachel can barely wait.

"I've been thinking," Quinn says eventually; "about Spring Break."

Rachel licks her lips, wondering where she's going with this.

"I know Sarah already asked you if you wanted to come with us," Quinn says. "And I get why you would be hesitant."

Rachel doesn't say anything.

"My father would be at the lake house for only the first weekend, because he has to come back to work, so it'll be just you, me, Sarah and my mom." Quinn's jaw clenches for a moment. "I can't make promises we'll be able to spend any actual time together… well, not when we're going on runs or hikes that we both know Sarah won't want to go on, at least. But, I mean, we can make it work, right?"

"If I can come," Rachel adds.

"If, indeed."

She sighs. "I mentioned it to my mother, and she seemed… hesitant."

Quinn can obviously hear something in her voice. "Because of me?"

"Maybe you just get her Spidey senses tingling," Rachel says, sounding slightly amused. "She must be able to pick up that her daughter is now a woman, as it were."

Quinn chuckles. "God, she would probably murder me if she knew the things we've done," she says, only semi-serious, because Shelby seems like the type who knows how to get rid of a body.

Rachel lifts her head to look at Quinn's face, feeling a smile tug at her lips. "I'll talk to her again," she says. "We'll figure it out."

Quinn nods. "I'm not worried."

Rachel rolls her eyes, her smile growing when Quinn winks at her. They're okay. Things might be incredibly difficult for, maybe, the next two years of their lives, but being with Quinn, even just right now, is always going to be worth it.

"What is that you're playing?" Rachel asks, resettling her head against Quinn's shoulder.

Quinn plays a few more bars, and then answers, "It's _Dietro Casa_ by Ludovico Einaudi."

Rachel hums softly. "It's beautiful," she murmurs.

Quinn places a kiss against the top of her head. "It is, indeed."

* * *

Agreeing to go on Spring Break with the Fabray family seems like a good idea right until the moment she's wedged between the two sisters in the backseat of their family car. It's not the worst position she could be in, given that Quinn is effectively pressed against her left side, but there's an undeniable tension in the car that seems to get worse and worse the longer they spend in this moving crackpot.

From what Rachel has been able to pick up, Quinn and Russell are fighting - shocker - and Russell and Judy are having a disagreement about the fact Russell intends to leave even earlier than expected, hitching a ride with one of his coworkers, whose family will be staying in one of the other houses.

Quinn just rests her head against the window and slides her hand into the space between her thigh and Rachel's, and then smiles when Rachel does the same, carefully linking their fingers.

The car ride is infinitely better after that.

As expected, the lake house is _huge_. Rachel isn't surprised by that, and she's both relieved and disappointed she gets her own bedroom for the duration of her stay. Mainly because Quinn's room is so far away.

Though, the two of them have discussed it and decided it's far too risky to try anything during the night in this place. Noise travels, and there aren't any locks on the doors.

But Quinn promised her time together, and Rachel just knows she's going to deliver.

It helps that the two of them rise the earliest, and they're able to use the excuse of going for runs that Sarah avoids with a passion to spend some time together before the day actually starts. It does, however, not help that Sarah seems more attached to Quinn than usual, and Rachel thinks Quinn is going to have to have a very real conversation with her about what's going to happen post-graduation.

On Monday morning, with Russell officially gone, Judy actually sleeps in, which makes Quinn immensely pleased for her mother. And for herself, of course, because it allows her just that bit more time with only Rachel, seeing as Sarah sleeps until noon if left unchecked.

It's nice, just being able to curl up on the couch with Rachel, an arm casually draped around her shoulders and a very specific hand high up on her bare thigh. For a moment, Quinn allows herself to indulge in the fantasy that they could actually have this life. That they could sit here and her mother and sister could come down those stairs and they wouldn't even bat an eyelid at the sight of them. That she and Rachel wouldn't have to scramble away from each other to negate the importance of their relationship.

She knows it'll never happen, but she can dream.

On Tuesday, Quinn keeps them running out for longer, tugging Rachel into an enclosure of trees and kissing her under the shade of leaves. There's something magical about it, and the stolen moment escalates quite suddenly, their bodies coming together almost desperately. Their love is dangerous, but, in this one moment, with nature all around them, Quinn cannot bring herself to care.

By Thursday, Rachel automatically agrees when Quinn suggests a late night walk. Sarah is practically already passed out from doing literally nothing all day, and she barely lifts her head when Quinn casually mentions they're heading out for a little while, a naughty little grin taking hostage of her face.

Rachel doesn't really figure out why they're doing this at all until Quinn leads them right around the lake and into a small area surrounded by rocks. The water has formed a little pool, and Quinn only has to lift her t-shirt over her head for her to figure out just what her girlfriend has planned.

"Quinn?" Rachel asks, sounding nervous.

Quinn just glances over her shoulder at her. "Aren't you coming?"

Rachel just stares at her, watches as Quinn slowly and purposefully peels away her clothes, piling them neatly until she's completely and beautifully bare before her. Rachel's eyes take her all in, her own heart thumping wildly in her chest. She isn't even worried about getting caught in this moment, because Quinn is so gorgeous that her brain has actually stopped working.

"Do you need some help?" Quinn asks.

"Huh?"

"I mean, you seem to be wearing _way_ too many clothes over there," Quinn says, and there's a very distinct purr to her voice that's almost a gunshot going off in Rachel's head. "Don't you want to join me for a little midnight swim?"

Rachel waits just a beat of her heart before she scrambles to get out of her clothes, and Quinn lets out the most delightful laugh as she turns and heads towards the water. She even lets out a quiet shriek at the temperature, doing a cute little dance in place.

Rachel Berry is so, so in love.

The water is freezing, and she has barely a second to wince before Quinn is reaching for her and tugging her right into the water. She shivers - from the temperature, but probably also from Quinn's touch - and then laughs at how ridiculous this all is.

They're skinny dipping.

In freaking Ohio.

Quinn wraps arms around her waist, and, God, she's so warm as their bodies press together. "My love," Quinn murmurs, a easy smile on her face. "Just imagine the stories we'll be able to tell our children."

There is no way Quinn can say words like that and not have Rachel react. The kiss she receives for her troubles is furious, almost painful, and Quinn just barely manages to hold on for dear life.

Later, when they're on their way back to the house, Rachel asks, "Would you really want to have children with me?"

Quinn reaches for her hand, holds it tight and says, "Yes," as if it's the simplest answer in the world.

And, maybe it is. Because Quinn envisions their future together. She's planning for it, saving money and putting together actual scenarios where they actually get to be together in all the ways that count. Quinn is planning for their lives, as if she isn't feeling that haunting sense of _this is all the time you get_ , and it baffles Rachel.

"How many?" Rachel finds herself asking.

Quinn skips over a rock, and then laughs. "As many as you want."

Rachel squeezes her hand, and Quinn stops walking to look at her. The moon's light casts a glow over her skin, and she is the most perfect human being Rachel has ever encountered. "What if I don't want any?" she asks.

Quinn regards her closely. "I don't think you mean that," she says. "But, if that's what you want, I think I could find a way to be okay with it."

"Really?"

Quinn nods. "For what it's worth, I think you would make a great mother," she says. "I think, what we've learned from our own parents will go a long way towards helping us be better parents."

"What we've learned…" Rachel echoes, frowning, because there's nothing her parents have done she would ever want to emulate.

"Basically, what not to do," Quinn quips, and then gets them moving again.

Rachel forces her feet to move. "You've planned for everything, haven't you?" she says, slight wonder in her voice.

Quinn smiles at her, open and happy. "That, I can safely answer with a resounding yes."

Rachel chuckles. "You are actually so weird."

"And yet you love me."

Rachel sighs, and it's dreamy to her own ears. "Indeed, I do."

* * *

On their last night, Quinn takes her into her bedroom and says, "I think it'd be a good idea for you to learn how to handle my injection."

Rachel freezes at the door. "As in, actually _give_ it to you?"

"Yes."

Rachel remains stock-still, just staring at Quinn's back, because she has to be joking. Rachel isn't about to give her an actual injection. That's - that's just -

"Come here," Quinn instructs gently. "I'll guide you through it."

"Quinn," she murmurs unsure.

Quinn stops fiddling with her little bag and turns to face her. "I know this is scary," she says, holding out her hands and inviting Rachel forward. "But it's important. It's just in case, okay?"

"In case of what?" Rachel asks, taking a step forward. "You promised you were going to take better care of yourself."

"And, I've been keeping my promise, haven't I?" she questions lightly, grin in place. "But we're together now, and anything can go wrong, and I think we would both be more comfortable if you know what to do if ever I…" she trails off. "I just think you should know."

Rachel's reluctance stems from a place that's unfamiliar to her. For some reason, the idea of knowing how to do this thing makes her feel as if she's… losing Quinn, in a way. It's ridiculous, she knows, but there's a weird sense of understanding that creeps into her bones about what Sarah must be feeling.

It's oddly toxic, but she can't bring herself to say anything as Quinn sits with her on the edge of her bed and slowly guides her through the blood test, wincing at the number it reveals.

"Just in time," Quinn says quietly, trying to sound amused but failing.

Quinn's hands move with hers, carefully preparing the syringe and needle, precise with the plunger and tapping to get rid of any air bubbles. Vaguely, Rachel is aware of just how dangerous those can be.

Quinn eventually shifts, dropping the back of her pyjama pants, and then chuckling to herself. "This is suddenly very not sexy," she says.

Rachel just about manages a smile as Quinn talks her through the insert. Quinn doesn't even react to the prick, her face carefully blank, and Rachel wonders if it just doesn't hurt anymore. That's a sad thought, which is made even worse by the idea that the physical pain is probably overwhelmed by the emotional one.

She's blinking back rogue tears when Quinn cleans up, quickly and efficiently, and then she's back at Rachel's side, taking hold of one of her hands in both of her own.

"My love," Quinn says, as she has come to start calling her lately. She opens her mouth to say something, probably profound, but she just ends up yawning instead.

Rachel giggles, automatically pressing a forefinger to Quinn's perfect nose.

Quinn pretends to bite at it, and they dissolve into even more laughter. They're okay.

They're going to be okay.

"I'm going to write about you, one day," Quinn says unexpectedly, eyes a little bright as she looks at Rachel with all the love she feels in her heart.

"Oh?"

Quinn kisses the tip of her nose, drawing her into a hug. "You, my dear, are the type of girl people write entire stories about."

* * *

 **Ryan** : _Don't you want to pick me up from the mall? Go for a drive? We still have an hour before this extra 'Happy' rehearsal is supposed to start, and M and K are already driving me crazy with their shopping arguments_.

 **Ryan** : _Also, I kind of miss you like crazy_ 😝

Quinn smiles to herself at the sight of the words. She's just got home from school, ready to enjoy an unexpectedly free afternoon, but they both know she would drop everything for Rachel.

 **Quinn** : _On my way_.

* * *

Rachel is already waiting for her in front of Entrance 3, and Quinn barely comes to a stop before Rachel is getting into the passenger's side and slamming the door a little harder than is strictly necessary.

Quinn pulls away in silence, watching as Rachel puts on her seatbelt a little roughly. Quinn lets the silence drag as she gets them out of the parking lot and onto the main road, moving away from whatever seems to have her girlfriend in a mood.

The song _I Know_ by Bayonne is just coming on when Quinn braves asking, "Tough day?"

Rachel raises and drops her hands, visibly exasperated. "I don't get what everyone's obsession with boys is," she forces out. "It's literally all they can talk about." She glares at the space in front of her. "Kurt keeps talking about Finn, gushing over him and giving me this look as if to ask why I wouldn't be all over him, when the boy is so obviously interested in me." She groans in frustration. "It's so stupid. I don't even _like_ boys. And I have a _girlfriend_ , thank you very much. I'm very much taken and I'm perfectly content."

Quinn doesn't even know how to respond to that.

Rachel eventually deflates, her anger dissipating. "Sorry," she says. "I'm just - I wish they would stop."

Quinn reaches to squeeze her thigh in a show of comfort.

Rachel shoots her a small, grateful smile, and then reaches to fiddle with the music, obviously needing something to do.

Quinn lets out a breath, figuring out this is part of a much bigger problem. "Can I ask?" she starts.

"You can ask," Rachel says, fiddling with Quinn's _iPod_ and resisting the urge to sigh.

Quinn takes a breath, wondering if this is a topic even worth mentioning. "We'll have nobody, won't we?"

Rachel does sigh, and then nods. "Maybe your mom," she offers halfheartedly.

Quinn clenches her jaw. "I _know_ my mom loves me, but I don't think she loves me enough to be strong enough to go against my father, and we both know he'll never accept _this_."

Rachel shudders. "Sarah?"

Quinn closes her eyes. "I won't make her choose," she says. "In fact, I won't even _let_ her. Our family is too important to her, as it is."

Rachel thinks about her own brothers, who are still too young to understand what's really happening. She wonders if anyone will ever explain that their sister isn't around anymore because society tells her the way she loves is abnormal. She wonders if they too will grow up with that kind of hate in their hearts.

They're quiet for a long while, Quinn just continuing to drive. It's comfortable, even though there's an unmistakable tension in the air. They both realise this was the purpose for this drive in the first place.

"I love you," Rachel says.

Quinn smiles a little sadly. "I've been saving up," she says. "I mean, I _have_ money, Rachel, and I'm going to graduate and I'll have a place, and I don't really know what your plans are, but I intend to spend forever with you."

Rachel breathes deeply, overwhelmed. "What are you saying, Quinn?"

Quinn puffs out a breath. "I'm saying that, if you choose to be with me after all of this, I'll be able to take care of you and us and your dreams and our future. I promise to."

Rachel feels tears prick at her eyes. "Do you think we'll really be able to hide this for two more years?"

Quinn makes a strangled sound in her throat, but she forces herself to nod. "We're going to have to," she says. "At least until you're eighteen. Then, I guess, we can make more decisions."

"But, you're going to college," Rachel points out.

"Which might make it easier to hide us, even if it'll be torture to be away from you," Quinn says. She still hasn't decided if she's going to let her father pay for Yale, and ride her luck he doesn't find out about her preferences until the four years are over.

But, with Rachel, she won't ask her to hide forever. If she doesn't go to Yale, though, that'll cause another family scandal, and that puts everything in jeopardy.

They're getting to that time when decisions have to be made, and she thinks she's going to have to choose Yale to keep the most people happy. Safe. Oblivious.

Once the first two years are up, Quinn will have to make a plan to pay her own way, even if that'll have to include a transfer. She knows what's going to happen when her father learns she likes girls.

"Will I see you only on holidays?" Rachel asks quietly.

Quinn nods. "When I come home, yes."

Rachel looks out the window, the trees and buildings passing them by. "It's going to be hard, isn't it?"

Quinn just hums. "I believe we can get through it," she says. "We're made of the strong stuff, Berry."

Rachel rests a hand on Quinn's thigh, and leans across to kiss her cheek. "I love you so much, Quinn Fabray," she murmurs, her lips lingering. "Now, can you find somewhere to park, because I would very much like to have my dirty, filthy way with you?"

Quinn laughs softly. "Baby, as much as I would love to, aren't you the one who has Glee rehearsal to get to?"

Rachel groans, tilting her head back. "I'd rather be making music with you."

Quinn grins, lopsided and happy. "Maybe we can do something this weekend," she offers. "Friday night. San and B want the evening to themselves, but I can say I'm with them, and we can get dinner or something."

Rachel nods slowly. "I guess a visit to Mercedes can be in the cards for me."

"Will she cover for you?"

"She won't even have to know."

"Shelby won't check?" Quinn asks, her own paranoia sparking.

"Not after the first time, no," she says. "And, plus, I think the boys have some kind of school concert this Friday. They've been driving me crazy with their singing."

"Not as good as you, huh?"

"Nobody's as good as me, Fabray."

Quinn chuckles. "You _are_ very talented."

Rachel makes a show of wiggling her fingers, and Quinn blushes furiously. "Fine," she finally says. "Take me home, then. I need to get my stuff, anyway, and I should probably drive myself to school." She sinks down in her seat, looking unimpressed. "I don't even get why we're having this ridiculous practice, anyway. We can just fit it in at school. It's not like we have any competitions to prepare for."

Quinn smiles a little sadly. "Sorry, baby." She says, and she's apologising for so much more than an ill-scheduled practice.

"It's fine," Rachel says, when they both know it's not. "I think Mr Schuester just wants to boost group morale, because it's been really low since we lost Regionals."

Quinn can't really sympathise with that because she doesn't know how it feels to lose a Regionals' competition. She does think it's unfair that their Club's future is up in the air, and she wonders if she could actually have any success in talking Coach Sylvester into changing her mind.

As a parting gift, as it were.

Rachel and Sarah both have to deal with her for at least another two years. Quinn is done soon. She just has to win Nationals, and then Sue Sylvester will be in her rearview mirror.

"I'll make up for it on Friday," Quinn says. "I promise."

Quinn gets a lingering kiss and repeated words of affection for her troubles. She parks around the corner to Rachel's house, in their usual spot, and Rachel works her up into a state of arousal that leaves her a panting mess when Rachel finally leaves.

"I love you," Rachel murmurs, smiling widely at the breathless girl in front of her.

Quinn puffs out an annoyed breath. "You're evil."

Rachel pats her cheek, laughing softly. "Text me later."

Quinn just hums in response, and then watches her go, doing her best to ignore the pang of separation that grows in her chest.


	10. Chapter 10

**AN** : Trigger warnings for violence and homophobia.

* * *

**X**

Rachel is in an awful mood.

Instead of spending time with Quinn right now, she has to listen to teenage boys whine about God-knows-what, and she's about ready to strangle one of them.

Maybe all of them, if they're not careful.

She's sure she surprises the lot of them with her relative impatience - including Mr Schuester - but it's already difficult finding time to spend with Quinn without having to fit in unnecessary Glee rehearsals, when it's all so pointless, anyway. And she's still irritated about Kurt and Mercedes endless dribble about her and Finn.

She doesn't even want to _sing_ , which is the most alarming thing, and she has to excuse herself to the bathroom before she snaps at someone or bursts into tears.

It all just feels so overwhelming all of a sudden.

They'll have nobody.

Beyond this year, and beyond this town; the only people they'll have will be children like themselves. Just kids, trying to find their way in the world. What are they supposed to do? What is _she_ supposed to do when Quinn leaves; when she's just gone? What happens to her then?

Two more years in this place, and she has to suffer through it all without the one person who makes any of it worth it. It'll be a virtual relationship, which will be safer, sure, but will it be enough?

What they're doing right now doesn't even feel like it's enough, as it is. It's nothing she thinks she could tell Quinn, given how much she already struggles with everything else they're going through on a daily basis. Quinn has so much more to consider at this stage of her life, and Rachel feels as if she's just holding on for dear life, barely able to make sense of all the plans Quinn has for them.

She can feel tears building as she makes her way to the bathroom, just needing a moment to stop and catch her breath. She needs to get her emotions under control before she actually screams at someone - or, worse, bursts into tears in front of her peers.

She's just made it around the corner when she hears footsteps behind her, and then a voice calling her name. Of all the people she expected to come after her, the sight of Mr Schuester definitely surprises her enough to bring her to an abrupt stop.

He looks a little sheepish once he's finally caught up, and he doesn't seem to know what to say to her. Maybe he can sense her mood, in some way, because she's pretty sure she's wearing her heartache all over her face.

"I'm fine," Rachel finds herself saying.

Mr Schuester stops fidgeting then and looks her right in the eye. "No, you're not," he says with both clarity and certainty. "You haven't been for a long time."

She clenches her jaw.

"I - I wasn't sure it was my place to say anything," he says with a slight frown. "It would be easy to relegate it to school woes or something to do with Glee, but I think I've figured out it's a lot more than that, isn't it?"

Rachel isn't sure what to say to him.

He sighs. "Look, this isn't - it's not some kind of intervention or something, but I do want you to know you can talk to me if you want." He pauses. "Or Miss Pillsbury, if that'll make you more comfortable. I just - " he stops. "I want to tell you I'm a person who is on your side. In your corner. Uh. Just, whatever you need."

Rachel's brow furrows, because it almost sounds as if he _knows_ , which is just impossible. There is _no way_ he could know about anything.

Mr Schuester runs a hand through his hair, and he looks inexplicably nervous. "I spent a night in my office, once," he says quietly. "Sometimes, you hear things."

Rachel freezes.

Mr Schuester smiles again, trying for reassuring and almost hitting the mark. "Just, you know, if ever you need anything, okay?"

All Rachel can do is nod, feeling both numb and dumb.

"Okay then," he says. "We'll be back there whenever you're ready. I'll try to make sure they don't kill one another while we wait." And then he spins around and walks away, Rachel watching after him with a bit of a bewildered expression.

Huh.

* * *

 **Rachel** : _So… Mr Schuester knows_.

The reply comes almost immediately, and she would find it amusing if she wasn't still in a bit of disbelief herself. She thinks she should probably be freaking out about this, but there's something oddly comforting about having an actual adult know and not want to break them apart be his default reaction.

 **Lucas** : _Knows what_?

 **Rachel** : _He was in his office while we were discussing our plans for Spring Break. He seemed… okay with everything. Told me he was on my side. OUR side_.

 **Lucas** : _Fuck. I don't even know what to say right now. How are you feeling_?

 **Rachel** : _I'm okay. Maybe better than okay. What about you_?

 **Lucas** : _I don't know. I mean, I don't even know the man. Do you trust him_?

 **Rachel** : _I think the fact this is the first time he's even alluded to what he may or may not know means something. He was just offering some kind of outlet for me, I guess_.

Instead of getting a reply, her phone starts to ring, and she panics for a brief moment before she answers with a soft, "Hello."

Quinn sighs heavily. "I'm sorry."

Rachel frowns, rolling onto her back on her bed. "For what?"

"I've known, of course, but I've never really given it enough thought," she says. "As far as I know, I'm the only person you talk to about any of this, and, fuck, I'm sorry, baby."

Rachel closes her eyes. "There's no need for _you_ to be sorry," she says. "It's just what it is."

"I wish - "

"I know."

Quinn is silent for a long moment. "Have you ever considered talking to someone else?"

"Like who?" Rachel scoffs, and her heart rate skyrockets quite suddenly and dangerously. "Sarah? My mom would sink her teeth into her in a heartbeat. Mercedes? Have you _seen_ her house? It's like stepping into a chapel. Kurt? God, it makes the most sense, sure, but he's kind of a prick. Who else is there? Santana? Brittany? My father, who couldn't even be bothered to send a damn birthday card, even one year. Who, Quinn? There is nobody else. It's you. All I have is you, and now you're just going to leave me, and who else am I going to have left, huh? Who?"

"Baby - "

Rachel hangs up, horrified at her own outburst.

Her phone starts to ring again, but she just switches it to silent and drops it onto the floor. She is not going to cry. Nope. Not today.

She rolls onto her stomach and buries her face in her pillow, just wishing the world didn't seem so daunting all of a sudden. She groans into the fabric, hearing her phone vibrate on her carpet.

Not now.

She'll face the world later.

* * *

In the morning, there's a smoothie in her locker, accompanied with a single note.

_R,  
_ _Berries were definitely harmed in the making of this smoothie.  
_ _Please join me for dinner this Friday evening… and possibly breakfast on Saturday morning if you're feeling up for it.  
_ _Baby, you do have me. I just wish it was enough.  
_ _I love you.  
_ _\- L_

Rachel's heart aches as she reads the words, because of course Quinn is enough for her. Of course she is, and Rachel hates that she would ever think she wasn't. With a sigh, she fishes for her phone she's been ignoring and pulls up her chat with Lucas.

Quinn has sent her thirteen unanswered texts.

Rachel closes her eyes, feeling a wave of guilt. It's okay. She's okay. She'll make it up to Quinn later. On Friday. And Saturday.

 **Rachel** : _Yes. Yes to everything_.

 **Rachel** : _It is enough, my love. YOU have always been enough_.

 **Rachel** : _I love you, too_ 💖

* * *

Quinn knows, without a doubt, being apart from Rachel is going to crush her. She can complain six ways to Sunday about how difficult it is for them _now_ , but she knows her being at college is just going to complicate things while making them easier, as well.

It's why she reasons the best thing she can do is spend as much time with her as they can get away with right now. She has all sorts of dates and outings planned - some that will probably have to include Sarah and maybe Santana and Brittany too - and she's going to do whatever it takes to be able to be in Rachel's presence as much as possible.

Especially after the week she and Rachel seem to have had. Her girlfriend is especially struggling, and Quinn knows she has to do whatever she can to reassure her; to make sure she knows they can get through this, and it's all going to be worth it in the end.

So, on Friday, Quinn decides to take a chance and drive Rachel out to a restaurant on the outskirts of town and treat it as a bit more of a date than she usually would while still in Lima. She holds open doors and pushes chairs in and places the order for them both when their waiter stares at Rachel for a little too long to be strictly comfortable.

"Stop glaring at him," Rachel says, smiling behind her glass of water as the man eventually leaves with their choices.

"He's the one who should stop staring," Quinn grumbles, looking adorably disgruntled. "That can't be good customer service."

"I'm guessing his tip is dwindling by the second," she says, giggling softly.

"Stop being all cute and lovely," Quinn says, trying and failing to be serious. "You're attracting all the crazies."

"His eyes do scream I'm-going-to-stalk-you-to-death, don't they?"

Quinn shudders, shakes her head as if to clear it, and then promptly changes the subject. The last thing she wants is to talk about some guy perving over her girlfriend. She already has to deal with Finn Hudson mooning over her on a daily basis.

"Did I tell you Santana got her letter from NYU?" Quinn says. "It arrived yesterday."

Rachel beams, looking proud. "That's fantastic news," she says. "At least, she and Britt will be together now."

Quinn nods, looking a little conflicted. "San is still nagging me to go with them," she says. "I can't, though."

Rachel audibly swallows. "Because of me?"

Quinn's smile is a little sad. "I don't think getting to go to Yale is such a heavy price to pay to make sure I still get to see you, because I'll still be coming home."

Rachel sighs. "I hate this."

Quinn shrugs. "We can do it," she says, a little too brightly. "I know we can."

Rachel almost throws her napkin at her, but that's the moment their waiter returns with their food, setting their plates in front of each of them. He hovers for a moment, his eyes on Rachel, but eventually spins and walks away.

Quinn frowns down at her food. "Do you think he poisoned this, so he can get his chance with you?"

Rachel shakes her head at her antics, smiling in amusement. "Whether you're alive or not, nobody will ever hold a candle to you, Fabray," she says, the words rolling off her tongue. "I'm yours for forever, didn't you know?"

Quinn raises her eyebrows. "Are you promising to love me for eternity, Rachel Berry?"

"Haven't I already?"

Quinn reaches across the table and taps the top of Rachel's hand with her fingers. "No matter what happens, right now and in the future, I want you to know that I'm always going to love you," she says, serious and profound. "Nothing about what's to come is going to be easy, but you need to know you've seared your name on my heart, and - " she stops. "Wow, I'm walking right into cheesy territory here, aren't I?"

Rachel lets out a wet laugh, feeling emotional. "And you call yourself a writer."

Quinn grins at her, taking her hand back. "I already promised I would write about you."

"I'm waiting."

Quinn shakes her head in amusement, returning her attention to her food. She hasn't told Rachel she's already started, choosing to write their story, as difficult as it's been.

She thinks it's a story that should be told.

Rachel Berry truly is the type of girl you write stories about. Quinn has never been more certain of anything (bar her love for said girl, which she's been sure of for longer than she'd care to admit). The story, itself, is coming together rather nicely, but Quinn doesn't yet have an ending in mind.

She's not sure she'll even be able to write an ending any time soon. Not when everything in front of them is so terrifying.

As they eat, Rachel tells her stories about her friends and they absently discuss Quinn's plans to take them camping one of these upcoming weekends. Which, admittedly, doesn't sound all that appealing to Rachel.

"I'm a city girl, Quinn," she complains as Quinn gets the check. "We don't do the outdoors. I'm practically allergic."

Quinn looks immensely amused as she takes out her bank card and hands it to their waiter, Roger. She doesn't want to be petty, but she can't help it, which is why his tip is less that it would have been if the man didn't spend an uncomfortably long time staring at her girlfriend.

Even Rachel is a little creeped out about it. He's at least double her age.

Anyway, the evening is still a success, and Quinn helps Rachel with her jacket when they're ready to leave. Roger walks them to the door, holding it open for them and saying, "You two ladies have a good night."

Rachel gives him a polite smile, and then laughs when Quinn scowls at his back. She links their arms together as they walk away from the restaurant, decidedly not in the direction of Quinn's car.

They're just walking, apparently.

Quinn leans into her, looking more at ease now that they're away from their waiter and his staring. "I didn't ask," she says; "did you tell your mother you're sleeping at Mercedes' house?"

Rachel nods. "Are we sleeping at San's?"

Quinn nods. "Her parents are out of town," she says. "It's why they're spending the night in, doing whatever it is they do."

"Having sex."

Quinn laughs, even if her heart stutters at the taboo of it all. "You say it as if you're not expecting to have sex, as well."

Rachel shrugs. "No expecting here, Quinn," she says. "I just want to be able to sleep in your arms."

Quinn hums. "You're definitely getting lucky tonight."

Rachel jumps a little, smiling happily. "Can we go to her house now?" She exaggerates a yawn. "I find I'm quite tired, all of a sudden."

Quinn laughs out loud, but dutifully steers them back towards where her car is parked. "You're the least subtle person I know."

"Quinn," she says, faking seriousness. "I spend every second of my life being subtle. Forgive me if the one thing I allow to overwhelm my senses is my attraction and longing and desire for you."

Quinn looks at her. "You're not allowed to say that word," she breathes.

"Which one?"

"Desire," she says. "The way you say it makes it sound so dirty."

Rachel laughs softly, resting her head on Quinn's shoulder and squeezing her arm. "You're very special, Baby."

Quinn just hums, and then reaches in her jacket pocket for her car keys when they get close to her car. She unlocks and opens the passenger door for Rachel, smiling when Rachel lingers before getting in.

"Everything okay?" Quinn asks.

Rachel nods, suddenly looking shy. "I just wanted to tell you I had a great time tonight."

Quinn smiles softly. "Me too, Berry," she murmurs, and then leans forward to kiss her cheek, her lips pressing a little too close to the corner of her mouth.

Rachel finally gets in the car and Quinn closes the door. She spends a moment just breathing, quietly marvelling that this night even exists. She gets to go 'home' with Rachel right now. She gets to spend the night with her, kissing her, touching her, and holding her. Making love to her.

It's almost unheard of, and she intends to enjoy every second of it. So, why is she wasting time?

Quinn pulls out of the parking lot two minutes later, her body already vibrating, just from the way Rachel is looking at her. She can feel heat rising up her neck, and she can tell from the slow smirk on Rachel's face that she can see it.

"You're cute," Rachel suddenly says, her smirk morphing into a soft smile. "Like, super duper adorable."

Quinn glances at her, just as she rolls the car to a stop at a stop sign. The streets are empty, but she still comes to a complete standstill, casting a quick look around to make sure there aren't any car lights in sight.

"How much time did you spend planning this night?"

Quinn blushes that bit harder, her eyes alight. Rachel thinks she's gorgeous like this, and she takes a moment to commit it to memory. "I just don't want you to forget about me," Quinn admits, which is something that's been playing on her mind recently, though this is the first time she's admitting it.

"I would never - " Rachel starts to say, and then stops suddenly when she sees it. It comes out of nowhere, and she has just enough time to scream the beginning of Quinn's name before a baseball bat comes swinging right through Quinn's door's window, shattering it, and connecting with Quinn's head.

Rachel is so shocked, she's frozen right until the moment the bat swings again, hitting Quinn's already bloody head from a different angle. Quinn doesn't try to dodge or fight back, because she's unconscious, Rachel realises, and that prompts her into action.

Without thinking, she reaches out for Quinn, pulling her body as far away from the window as she can manage. It's not far enough, and the bat is still swinging, and she can hear a voice shouting things.

Awful, awful things.

About Quinn, who is apparently stealing and converting good young girls and doing the work of the Devil.

Rachel thinks she might throw up. From the words, yes, but also from the blood. God, there's so much blood. It's covering Quinn's hair, the side of her face, her clothing.

It's all over Rachel's hands.

The bat pauses, and the voice is louder as the person holding the bat reaches for the keys in the ignition. Only, Quinn's ridiculously fancy car requires her to push a separate button to eject it, which is found in the centre console.

The keys stay put.

So, the bat swings again, and Rachel reaches her arm out to block it. She screams from the pain of the blow, but it's better it be her arms than Quinn's head.

Another blow hits, and she screams again.

It hurts in ways she's never experienced before, but all she knows is she needs to protect Quinn. Quinn, whose name she's now screaming. She's yelling it, as if she can somehow get through to her.

"Quinn!" she shouts, wincing as the bat connects again. It hits at the bone in her wrist, and she can just hope it's not broken. "Quinn, please!" She sucks in a breath, her eyes swimming with tears from the pain. "Quinn! Quinn!" She blinks, a sudden idea coming to her. "Start the car!"

The bat hits her harder at that, and she's suddenly had enough. When it swings again, Rachel grabs for it, her hands latching on. She holds it with all her might, even lifting herself further out of her seat.

Anything to stop the repeated blows; to stop the pain.

"Quinn, please, you have to wake up and start the car!" Rachel almost screeches, her grip on the bat slipping slightly. Whoever is on the other end tugs hard, and Rachel lifts right up. She pulls back with all her strength, and all she can see in the dark is a figure leaning all the way back, feet on the door as leverage.

Rachel waits until he's in position, and then lets go, releasing her hold quite suddenly. She hears the thud and a hissed 'Bitch,' but her arms are on fire and Quinn still isn't moving. "Baby, please," she says, realising she won't be able to reach the car key to start the ignition. "Start the car."

Rachel almost shakes her, heart thundering in her chest as the figure rises to his feet and stalks around the car to the passenger's side. She immediately shifts her entire body onto the centre console to get as far away from the vitriol.

"I'm going to show you a real man," he hisses, and Rachel actually sees him for the first time.

She _recognises_ him.

 _You two ladies have a good night_.

"Quinn!" Rachel tries again, panicked. "Start the car! Please! Start the car!"

The man - Roger - reaches for the handle of her door and pulls. It's locked, thankfully, and Rachel is allowed just a moment of reprieve before he's reaching for his bat once more.

It's the moment Rachel realises it's over. She won't stand a chance against him if he gets his hands on her, and there's no way she'll be able to protect Quinn from him.

God, Quinn.

She's trying not to think about what it means that Quinn still isn't moving.

Until she just does.

Rachel is in the middle of wondering what their parents are going to think when they find their bodies in the morning when a miracle happens. She'll call it that for years to come, but Quinn, somehow, lifts her hand and turns the key.

The car starts immediately, and Rachel wastes no time in shifting into gear, setting them rolling immediately. She hears a muffled shout, but she doesn't look back. All she wants is to get as far away from him.

To get Quinn to safety.

Rachel's hands take hold of the steering wheel and she braves saying, "Hit the gas."

And Quinn does. Rachel has no idea how. She thinks Quinn is slowly waking up, which is both a relief and slightly horrifying.

Rachel has no idea where they're going, but she recognises they're near Santana's house, so she steers them in that direction, her entire body trembling.

This - this isn't how this night was supposed to go.

Miraculously, they make it to Santana's house, and they manage to park just a little skew in the driveway. Quinn is now fully awake, her eyes blinking open and her words slurred.

She doesn't seem to recall what's happened.

Or, if she does, she's not saying anything about it.

Well, she's not saying much of anything at all, her words slurred.

"We're at Santana's," Rachel tells her, her voice shaky. The adrenalin is still pumping through her veins, and she shudders to think about the moment it fades. She doesn't want to face this night for what it is.

Quinn moves first, opening her door and basically falling out of the car. Rachel gasps, and follows right after her, her panic skyrocketing again.

"Quinn," she says. There's just so much blood. "Baby, can you stand?"

Quinn shifts onto her knees and then holds out her hand. "Help," she murmurs, and Rachel somehow gets her to her feet. They stumble towards the front door, Rachel still trying to figure out what they're doing. Why are they even here?

Rachel rings the doorbell when they reach the door, and then they wait. She rings it another two times. Nothing. Tries the door. Locked.

Quinn starts to lean heavily on her, and she can barely support her own weight. As a result, she lifts one bloodied hand to lean against the doorframe, her head bowed.

"Maybe they're out back," Rachel says. "Let me go check." She makes sure Quinn is as stable as she can get, and then she rushes around the house in search of Quinn's best friend. Her body is still shaking, and she's sure she's quite the sight, bloody and bruised, but she still pushes through the side door to the garden, and that's when she hears it.

Music.

Santana and Brittany are lounging by the pool, wonderfully oblivious to the chaos going on, and Rachel wastes no time moving towards them.

Santana spots her first, and she jumps to her feet immediately. "Jesus, Berry," she says, her eyes wide.

All Rachel says is, "Quinn," and then she's moving again, knowing they're going to follow. She rushes through the house this time, heading to the front door and opening it to find Quinn now slumped against the doorframe.

The amount of blood surprises her all over again, and she has a fleeting thought that she's making all the wrong decisions.

"What the fuck?" Santana says somewhere behind her. "Berry, what the fuck happened?"

Quinn stumbles into the house, and Rachel puts her bruised hands out to steady her. "Rach," she says. "I need you to take out my contacts."

Rachel ignores her, because, seriously, that's the last thing she's going to attempt to do right now. Instead, she turns to Santana and says, "Help me get her to the couch."

Quinn attempts to walk herself, but she almost falls over, which prompts Santana into motion.

Once the two of them have Quinn settled, Santana looks at Rachel and asks, "What happened?"

Rachel tries to explain, but the words aren't coming out properly. Beyond 'we were attacked' and 'there's so much blood,' nothing much else gets said.

"We have to go to the hospital," Brittany suddenly says, putting an end to Rachel's rambling.

"No." It's Quinn who answers, speaking for the first time since Rachel started trying to explain, and they all turn to look at her where she's slumping to the side. "I'm fine."

"Bullshit," Santana says. "We have to go. Right now." She turns to Brittany, just managing to keep a hold of herself. "Get our things," she says. "We'll get Quinn to the car."

"I'm fine," Quinn insists.

Santana ignores her, and then moves to help her up again, Rachel taking the other side. Santana won't say it, but she's terrified.

She's pretty sure she can see Quinn's brain.

They take Quinn's car. It's already parked out front, and it'll probably be needed for evidence, maybe.

Santana drives - somehow managing not to gag at the blood - with Quinn propped up in the passenger's seat. She's very still, her face pinched in obvious pain.

"San, too fast," Quinn whispers.

Santana checks how fast she's actually going - barely thirty - and immediately slows her speed.

"Too fast," Quinn says again.

Santana glances worriedly at her, and then slows her speed again.

As a result, it takes them nearly thirty full minutes to get to the hospital that's usually only ten minutes away. When they pull into the front of the Emergency Room, Rachel immediately moves to get out, but Quinn's sudden groan stops her.

"I'll be right back, Quinn," Rachel says. "Just, hang on, okay?"

Quinn groans again, and then it happens.

There's silence for a beat, and then Quinn's body suddenly locks up, her limbs straightening and her neck straining.

"What's happening?" Brittany asks, suddenly panicked.

Santana can just watch in horror as Quinn's shins dig into the dashboard, actually bending it.

"San!" Brittany shouts.

"She's having a fit," Santana finally says. "Rachel, hurry and get us some help."

Rachel hesitates, because the last thing she wants is to leave Quinn.

"Now!" Santana yells.

It gets her moving, and she scrambles out of the car and runs into the Emergency Room, creating quite the scene.

"Please," she says to the first person she sees. "We were attacked. My gi - " she stops suddenly, catching herself even in this desperate situation. "My friend's in the car. She's having a fit."

Rachel can just watch as several people burst into motion, and she follows them out as they roll a gurney.

Santana already has the door open, and Quinn is half hanging out.

Rachel would like to say the next few minutes are easy, but they're decidedly not.

They're terrible.

Getting Quinn inside is the simple part, because she seizes the moment they're in the trauma room. Only, this time, it's worse, and a nurse actually gets pushed to the ground from the force of Quinn's arm.

In the end, it takes six people, including Santana, Brittany and a young officer, to hold her down long enough to strap her to the bed in order to get an IV in her.

"Fuck," Santana says once Quinn has calmed, debris left in her wake. "That fucking hurt." She rubs at her abdomen, where Quinn landed a hard kick against her ribs.

"What's happening?" Rachel asks, her eyes on Quinn.

"They're assessing her," Santana says. "They're calling Neuro, as well." She blinks. "It's bad. It's really, really bad."

Rachel is about to ask more questions when a nurse suddenly appears at her side and says, "Why don't we take a look at you?"

Rachel frowns, confused. "What?"

"You're also hurt," the nurse points out.

Rachel shakes her head. "I'm fine," she says, and then looks at Santana. "I still have to call her family. God, what am I supposed to tell them? I can't tell them. They're going to - "

"Rachel," Brittany suddenly says. "We'll take care of all of that, okay? You just get yourself checked out. We'll keep an eye on her as well."

Rachel deflates slightly. "Okay," she says, and then allows herself to be led. Her heart hurts walking away from Quinn, but she has little choice.

Feeling is starting to come back, and the pain in her arms is getting progressively worse. One look down and she sees the swelling. Her arms are almost double their normal size.

She also has a gash on her forehead, apparently, and she sits through four stitches and carefully cleaned and bandaged arms before that same young officer shows up to talk to her.

"I've called in some detectives," he informs her. "Someone mentioned you were attacked?"

Rachel nods dumbly, and then tells him the street name.

"We'll send a car to check it out," he says. "Is there anyone I should be calling for you?"

Rachel blanches, because the last thing she needs right now is her mother. She wouldn't know how to explain any of this. How does she explain what she was doing in a car with her best friend's sister instead of at Mercedes' house the way she said she was?

Shelby's going to see right through it.

Rachel audibly swallows, and then gives the officer Mr Schuester's number instead.

She knows the truth is going to come out now. It's impossible for it not to. If they ever find the man who did this, he'll reveal she and Quinn were on an actual date. He'll reveal this is actually a hate crime, and then what? What happens then?

Once the officer leaves, Rachel makes her way back to Quinn, unable to stop her gasp at the fact they've now shaved her girlfriend's hair.

It reveals so much.

Her skull, which has been bashed in, cracked into tiny pieces, almost looks like a jacket potato, and Rachel wants to throw up all over again.

But, her hair. Quinn is going to hate that. She loves her hair. Rachel loves her hair.

Rachel's not sure how long she stays standing there, but she's forced to move when they start to move Quinn, rolling her right out of the room.

"Where are you taking her?" she immediately asks.

"Surgery," one of the nurses says. "We can't wait, if we want to avoid permanent brain damage."

Rachel's eyes widen, and she suddenly hates herself. She should have brought Quinn straight here. "Please," her mouth says, and the procession stops. She doesn't even know what she's asking, but they seem to.

"Make it quick," the nurse says, as if she can sense something in Rachel; something heavy.

Rachel moves to Quinn's side and bends to whisper in her ear, tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry," she says, her voice cracking. "I'm so sorry, baby. Please, please come back. Come back to me, okay? I love you. I love you so much." She presses a barely-there kiss to Quinn's cheek, and then she straightens, stepping back.

If these people didn't know the extent of their relationship before, they must sense it now. There are unmistakable tears in Rachel's eyes.

"We're going to do everything we can," one of them says, and then they're wheeling Quinn away.

Rachel just stands and watches until they disappear from sight, wondering if she's ever going to see her again. It's the moment she thinks she finally understands Looking for Alaska, only it's worse than she ever thought. Quinn didn't just slip through her fingers; she was wrenched, unceremoniously and without care.

There's nothing for Rachel to have to figure out, and it is devastating.

Nobody bothers her or questions her, and she's still standing there when she hears a voice say her name.

Rachel recognises it immediately, and she has to force herself to turn around even though it's possibly the last thing she wants to.

Sarah is standing there, looking perplexed and particularly teary.

"What are you doing here?" Sarah asks, and then seems to take in her appearance. The tears, the bandages, the blood. "Oh, my God, are you okay? What happened?"

Rachel can't bring herself to reply, and she's suddenly very grateful for Mr Schuester's arrival. She immediately turns to him, reaches out with her aching arms and then buries her face against his chest.

He knows.

He runs a soothing hand along her back. "Rachel, what happened?"

And, it's that question that starts the waterworks. She can't help it. This entire night is just now catching up with her, and it hurts. Everything hurts.

It's over.

Whatever she and Quinn had is over.

It'll never be the same again.

 _She'll_ never be the same.

So, Rachel cries, and Mr Schuester lets her. He glances over at Sarah, who looks conflicted, unsure what to do.

"Why are you here, Sarah?" he asks.

Sarah blinks. "Quinn," she says. "They - they said she was in an accident. My parents are getting information now."

Rachel tenses in his arms, and he holds tighter. Oh.

Oh, no.

"Rachel," Sarah says. "Are you okay?"

Rachel most definitely is not okay, and she needs Sarah to be anywhere else but here.

She gets her wish. Sort of.

"Sarah?"

Sarah turns towards her mother's voice, which is low and hollow. "Mom, what's happening? Where's Quinn?"

"Come here, Honey," Judy says, and Sarah moves towards her, settling into her arms. "Quinn is in surgery," she says. "She suffered a brain injury. There was no time to wait."

"What?"

"Your father is trying to get more details, but that's as much as we know now. The police are here. They have questions." Judy pauses. "Quinn's friends are here, apparently. They handed over the keys to her car. From the looks of things, this is looking less and less like an accident, and more like an attack."

Sarah tenses. "Someone _hurt_ her?"

"I'm afraid so," she says solemnly. "We'll know more soon."

Sarah's chest suddenly hurts, and she turns around to look for Rachel, needing to tell her what's happening, but she and Mr Schuester have disappeared from sight. She feels unsettled, all of a sudden, but she reasons it's to do with Quinn.

She learns just how wrong she is two hours later when two detectives come to find her and her parents in the waiting room, both of them looking sombre.

They're a man and a woman - Ian Davis and Marcella Garcia - and they take seats opposite the Fabray family.

"We're sorry to hear about your daughter," Davis starts. "We wish her a speedy recovery."

Sarah almost wants to slap him.

"We just want to inform you that we've opened an official investigation into the incident. We already have a suspect."

Russell shifts forward. "And you're going to get him?"

"We have officers checking his home and place of work as we speak," Garcia says, avoiding answering the question. "We'll inform you if and when we have more information."

Davis hands over his card. "If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to call."

Russell takes the card and asks, "What did he do to her?" His voice is small, barely audible.

Garcia looks him in the eye and very carefully says, "I think you should rather focus on what he didn't do to her," and then they both leave.

Sarah immediately takes out her phone to check if she's received a reply from Rachel. She needs to talk to her best friend, but Rachel isn't answering any of her texts or calls.

Still, she sends an update to Rachel, knowing the girl will want to hear about how Quinn is doing.

Which, well, takes another three hours for them to find out. The doctors can only say so much, given that they need to wait for the swelling to reduce before they can assess the true damage.

Russell is having none of it, though, and he makes a phone call that sees Quinn being airlifted to The Ohio State University Wexner Medical Center in Columbus in the middle of the night.

It's an update Sarah fails to send to Rachel.

* * *

Rachel is thinking about the last time she kissed Quinn when Mr Schuester pulls up in front of her house. The last thing she wants is to go inside, but her phone has already blown up with texts and calls from her mother.

She's missed curfew.

But, she's still thinking about the last time she kissed Quinn, which was just earlier this evening. It'd been simple and easy, and Rachel could never have predicted the way the night would go.

Of all the ways for them to be found out, this isn't a way she ever imagined. It's almost unbelievable, just thinking about it.

"Rachel?"

She turns her head to look at her teacher. "Mr Schue?"

"Are you going to be okay?"

She shakes her head. "I don't know what I'm supposed to tell her."

He shifts in his seat. "Would you like me to come inside with you?"

Rachel almost says yes, but she still wouldn't know how to explain why she called him instead of her own mother.

Well.

"Will you please check on Quinn?" she asks instead. "It's doubtful I'll be able to leave the house for a while, and I don't even know what to say to Sarah right now."

"I'll go first thing in the morning."

Rachel wants to say tonight, but she holds her tongue. He's already done so much.

He's holding all her secrets.

"Those detectives will probably want to talk to you again," he reminds her.

She shudders. She hated having to recall the experience for them, and they seemed equally disturbed by it. She debated over informing them he chose them because of their apparent sexuality, but she ended up leaving it just vague enough for them to draw their own conclusions.

Quinn might hate her for it when this is all over, but it was always going to come out. Better they build the case properly now.

Rachel hopes he just confesses, so there won't be a trial. Quinn needs the least amount of drama when she wakes.

 _If_ she wakes.

"I know," Rachel says tiredly. "I'll deal with them when they do."

"You're going to have to tell your mother."

Rachel nods. "I know."

"I'm sorry, Rachel."

"Yeah, me too," she murmurs. She thanks him a moment later, wishes him goodnight, and then gets out of the car, carrying her prescription with her.

Everything hurts.

Physically, yes, but her heart, too.

She misses Quinn.

She also hasn't yet come up with a story to placate her mother.

Maybe she should just go with the truth. Maybe she'll get some sympathy now, and then deal with the aftermath when Shelby learns the full truth.

It's what she ends up doing.

Shelby, predictably, is irate when Rachel steps through the door, but she shuts up the second she sees the state of her.

"What on earth happened?"

Rachel feels tears spring to her eyes, and she manages to stumble through some kind of explanation. It must be enough about some kind of attack, because Shelby helps her to her room, helps her get undressed and washed of all the blood, and then tucks her in.

It's the most motherly she's been since before that New York fiasco, and Rachel muses over the fact it's probably the last time, too.

* * *

 **Mr Schue** : _Hi, Rachel, hope you're doing better this morning. I'm at the hospital right now, and I've just learned that Quinn has been moved to a hospital in Columbus. From what they can tell me, she made it through the first surgery, but they're keeping her in a medically induced coma while she heals. I'll keep you posted on what more I learn_.

Rachel reads the message seven times, unsure how to reply. Quinn is in Columbus. She's in a coma. That's more than Rachel can handle, or even wants to.

She hasn't moved from her bed all morning, her limbs aching and her heart breaking. If she doesn't move, then maybe she can pretend the great big world isn't happening all around her.

She also hasn't slept. She's too wired, and the nightmares have been plaguing her. She had to roll onto her side to face away from her window, because she kept imagining him coming through it.

She keeps seeing that bat, swinging.

She keeps seeing Quinn, slumped and deathly still.

She just needs the world not to exist right now, so she's just going to lie in her bed and just breathe.

Still, she's forced to face it when her brother, Ethan, comes to call her, claiming the police are here to see her. One check of the time, and she sees it's already after lunch. She hasn't even thought about food.

It takes her ten minutes to look decent enough to go downstairs, but she's convinced she's still quite the sight.

"We have news on your attacker," Davis says, cutting straight to the chase once she's seated on the couch between her mother and stepfather. "From your description and his occupation, we were able to get his name and home address. Units were sent to his place of residence late in the evening, where they intended to bring him in for questioning." Here, he pauses, seemingly contemplating something.

Garcia picks up the thread for him. "He would not come willingly," she says. "He opened fire on our officers, and they were forced to take him out."

Rachel blinks. "He's dead?"

Garcia nods. "We found the baseball bat in his car," she says. "It had blood and your fingerprints on it. His fingerprints are also all over the outside of the car. At this stage, forensics are still running, but we would have had more than enough to charge him with this crime."

Rachel has absolutely no idea what to say, so she just leans back and says nothing.

This is... a lot.

"Are you okay?" Garcia asks her.

Rachel shakes her head. "I'm processing," she says. "It's been a rough night."

"We can only imagine," Davis says. "We still have a few things to tie up regarding your case, but that may take some time."

What he's saying, and what only Rachel and Garcia know, is that they're going to have to wait to see if the man would have been charged with Quinn's _murder_.

Rachel shudders, her heart rate quickening.

Quinn is in Columbus; in a coma, but still alive.

Which is merely confirmed when Davis says, "We should get going. We have a bit of a drive to deliver the news to the Fabray family."

Rachel just nods, and then watches silently as her mother sees them out. She sits perfectly still, just waiting for what's surely to come.

She's not wrong.

"The Fabray family? I thought you were with Mercedes last night?" Shelby starts when she gets back. "You didn't mention Sarah was with you as well."

"That's because she wasn't," Rachel says, barely looking at her. "Neither was Mercedes."

Shelby looks stumped. "You were never with Mercedes."

"No, I wasn't," Rachel admits.

"But, Sarah wasn't with you, either?" she questions. "Then why is her family involved in this?"

"The car I was in was Quinn's," Rachel says flatly, so tired of having to hide. "She was driving."

Shelby blinks. "And Sarah wasn't there?"

"No, she wasn't."

"Quinn was?"

"Yes."

"Do I want to know why?" Shelby asks, and there's a certain edge to her voice.

"We went to dinner," Rachel says, her eyes on her lap. She can feel how tense her stepfather is beside her, but he might as well not exist in this moment.

"Dinner?" Shelby echoes.

"It's where he saw us," Rachel says. "He was our waiter. He followed us; waited for us."

Shelby rubs at her collarbone. "It was just the two of you at dinner," she says. "Were you planning something for Sarah?"

Rachel almost wants to shake her, because her denial is painful. "No, we weren't," she says, and she's surprised by how calm she sounds. "We were on a date, Mom. Because Quinn is my girlfriend. Because I'm gay."

Shelby's jaw clenches. "Stop that."

Rachel shakes her head. "It's because of people like you this stuff even happens," she practically spits. "Why is it so difficult to accept that love can exist in many forms? That man came after us for exactly the same reasons you haven't been able to look me in the eye since New York. I'm not damaged. I'm not confused. I'm not being taken advantage of. I'm happy and in love."

"Stop it."

"That man bashed her skull," Rachel says hotly. "Beat her to within an inch of her life because he had hate in his heart. He would have killed her, killed me, and - and - " she stops, her voice catching. "So much hate. I just don't understand."

Shelby shakes her head. "You are not gay," she says, her voice stern. It's as if she hasn't heard a single word Rachel has said.

"I am."

"No, you're not," Shelby argues. "And you're never to see Quinn again, do you hear me? Or Sarah. That part of your life is over."

Rachel's shoulders sag. "I know," she murmurs.

"Excuse me?"

Rachel lifts her gaze and looks her mother square in the eye. "I said I know," she says. "It doesn't matter, anyway, right? Whether Quinn lives or dies, because there's no way you'll ever allow me to be happy, right?"

Shelby says nothing.

Rachel doesn't expect anything different, so she gets to her feet and goes up to her bedroom.

It's almost expected she cries herself to sleep, even though she tries so hard not to. Still, it is a sleep that's littered with nightmares, her voice raw as she pleads for Quinn to wake up and the unmistakable sound of shattering glass.

* * *

Rachel, Shelby, Quinn, Sarah, Santana and Brittany all aren't in school on Monday, and the corridors are alive with rumours of their whereabouts.

When news trickles in about Quinn being in a car accident, a rumour Santana perpetuates through the cheerleaders with the intention of keeping the true extent of the incident as private as possible, the school is rampant.

Parts of the truth are bound to come out, some time, but Quinn deserves this time. She deserves so much.

Rachel remains in her bedroom, slowly healing while trying not to devolve into something like despair. She hasn't spoken a word to anyone in her family, and she's just waiting for her mother to come through her bedroom door and tell her they're moving again.

Rachel almost wishes she would, because she's not looking forward to the inevitable confrontation she's going to have with Sarah.

Because.

 **Sarah** : _Rachel, why are they saying you were with Quinn during the attack_?

 **Sarah** : _Is that what you were doing at the hospital? He hurt you too? Why didn't you say anything_?

 **Sarah** : _Please just let me know you're okay. Quinn isn't, and I don't think I can stand the thought of both of you not being okay_.

 **Sarah** : _Rachel, why were you with Quinn? They're saying the guy was your waiter. Why were you having dinner with Quinn_?

 **Sarah** : _Rachel_?

Rachel has no idea what to say. She knows she's going to have to think of something, because she's bound to see Sarah again. She'll need some kind of story, and she's unsurprised when it comes from Shelby.

Shelby, who drags her down to the precinct and forces her to explain to Detectives Davis and Garcia that their attacker only _thought_ she and Quinn were on a date, but they were really just discussing a potential surprise weekend trip with Quinn's sister and Rachel's best friend.

It's obvious to Rachel they don't believe her, but she still says the words, putting it all down on record for the moment it all becomes public. She feels sick to her stomach to relegate her relationship with Quinn to nothing, but she knows this is a battle she won't win.

This is how she protects Quinn, as well. Rachel just hopes Quinn will understand. She did promise she would do everything she could to protect their secret. She failed to do so on the night in question, probably too caught up in the drama, but she can fix it now.

Their attacker is dead, Quinn is unconscious, so Rachel's word is gold.

The Detectives have to take it as it is, and Shelby is the only one who seems pleased by this turn of events. The Detectives just write the changed story, both of them realising this might be the best course of action, particularly because Russell Fabray has demanded to see the incident reports.

"Are you sure?" Davis asks Rachel, looking her in the eye.

Rachel nods. "I'm sure," she says. "It was all a misunderstanding. A dangerous, deadly misunderstanding, but I really can't have this ruin Quinn's life as well."

That's the moment they seem to get it, accepting the story for what it is.

Shelby leaves first, but Garcia keeps Rachel a moment longer, pretending she needs one more signature. Instead, she passes over her card, gives her a very significant look, wishes her luck, and then lets her go.

Rachel pockets the card, and hopes and pleads there won't be a day she'll need it.

* * *

 **AN** : So. That happened. For interest's sake, this actually happened to my parents when they were eighteen and twenty, respectively. Back when there were no cell phones. Obviously, they both survived - I'm here - but it was quite the ordeal at the time, as you can imagine. The upcoming aftermath is a little similar, mainly because their relationship was also 'frowned upon.' I'm on Twitter, if you have any questions. Please take care out there.


	11. Chapter 11

**AN** : I just wanted to take the time to thank you all for your responses to the last chapter. I'll admit that, sometimes, I forget what my writing can represent, so I appreciate the reminder. The reality of the world is scary, indeed, but I like to think love can win in the end. Just ask my mother, who takes _great pleasure_ in making sure her in-laws _know_.

For anyone who's interested, unfortunately, they never managed to catch the man who attacked my parents, but they were the fourth couple he targeted, and the way my mother tells it is that the only reason they didn't suffer similar fates to the other three (I don't think it's worth mentioning just what that would have been) was that the man couldn't remove the key from the ignition. It's honestly the little things.

* * *

**XI**

It's on Thursday, when Sarah is sitting at Quinn's bedside that she gets a long-awaited reply from Rachel, and it merely confuses her.

 **Rachel** : _Hey. Sorry it's taken so long to reply. I had to wait for the swelling in my fingers to go down, and I haven't really been allowed to do much of anything. I'm sorry, Sarah. You have no idea how sorry I am. We were just having a quick dinner to discuss a trip Quinn wanted to take us all on before graduation. It was supposed to be a surprise. None of this was meant to happen. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry_.

Sarah reads it twice before she looks at Quinn's face, her head heavily bandaged. "Is that true?" she asks her comatose sister. "I mean, it makes sense, but it feels weird." She sighs. "What happened that night, Quinn?"

Of course, she's met with silence.

"Mom says I have to go back to school next week," she says. "I'm kind of hoping you'll wake up before then. I mean, don't quote me or anything, but I kind of miss you. You said there was still time until you would be gone, so, you know, this isn't okay." She sighs. "I'm not sure what I'm supposed to say to Rachel," she muses. "I feel like her apology is for something more. Is - is this somehow her fault?"

"Definitely not."

Sarah jumps at the voice, her head spinning around to spy Mr Schuester in the doorway to Quinn's room. "Mr Schue," she says, clearly surprised to see him. "What are you doing here?"

He steps into the room. "I heard about Quinn," he says, sombre.

"Did Rachel tell you? That night?"

He nods. "I was with her when she explained what really happened to the police," he says. "This is definitely not her fault. If anything, she's the reason Quinn is even alive right now."

Sarah blinks.

Mr Schuester gives her a very significant look. "How do you think she suffered those injuries to her arms?"

It takes Sarah a moment to click, and then her eyes widen.

"How do you think Quinn even got to the hospital in the first place?" Mr Schuester presses.

Sarah doesn't say anything in response, her mind churning.

"How is she doing, anyway?" Mr Schuester asks, switching topics slightly.

Sarah clears her throat. "We're not sure, but the doctors are optimistic. They had to do a second surgery when she arrived here - some brain specialist needed to fix some things - but the swelling is going down, and they're waiting for it to be significant enough before they can go back in and place a skull plate, if they deem it necessary."

"Wow."

"She's lucky," Sarah whispers. "It was bad."

Mr Schuester just nods. "And, how are _you_ doing? Your parents?"

"They're with the doctors right now," she says. "My mom spends most of her day here, and I come along with my dad."

"Sarah?"

"It sucks," she says. "It sucks, okay? My sister is in a coma, and my best friend has been AWOL. Apparently, they were attacked together, and the reason for why sounds like bullshit."

Mr Schuester raises his eyebrows at her language.

"Sorry."

"It's okay."

Sarah blinks. "Would - would Rachel lie?"

"About this, no," he answers, barely hesitating and possibly hating himself a little for it. "Why would she?"

Sarah licks her lips. "My sister is notorious for... hiding herself. She could have some secret that only Rachel knows. They're weirdly close."

If this were any other time, Mr Schuester might find that funny, but now it's just sad. "Like what?"

"Probably to do with her diabetes," she says offhandedly. "Or, like, college or something. Who knows?"

He shakes his head. "I think you're looking for something that isn't there," he says. "Which is understandable in this situation."

She sighs heavily. "I miss her."

"I'm sure you do," he says. "Just know the Glee Club is thinking about you and Quinn, okay? I brought flowers, but apparently they aren't allowed in ICU."

Sarah manages a smile. "Thank you, Mr Schue."

"Of course," he says. "And, I wouldn't worry about how or why you got here too much. They're both okay, if a little indisposed at the moment. Rachel will heal, and I have great faith Quinn will pull through. You just have to be strong and patient."

"I'm not so good at that last thing," she says, and then frowns. "Or the first, really."

He smiles. "Well, this is as good a time to learn." It's the last thing he says before he bids her farewell, and then walks out. His hands are shaking, though he can't be sure why. Maybe it was the sight of Quinn, her pale skin and all the tubes and monitors. He tried not to look directly at her, but he saw _things_.

He thinks it's best Rachel isn't allowed to come and see her. He'll be her eyes, if she needs him to be, which is why he sends her a long message about what he's just learned from Sarah.

It's not great news, but it's the most they can ask for.

He receives a simple reply from her, just a quick _thank you, you're the best_ , and he can only imagine what she's currently going through. She won't say, probably, but he imagines it must feel as if her world is imploding.

It's the moment he vows to do everything he can to help, in any way.

Even if she doesn't ask.

* * *

While Santana and Brittany return to school on Wednesday, Sarah makes her return the following Monday, only to discover Rachel is still absent. She has so many questions, which is why she seeks out Quinn's best friends the first opportunity she can.

"What's up, Little Fabray?" Santana asks as soon as Sarah approaches them during lunch.

"You haven't visited her," is the first thing she says, which isn't what she initially wants to say.

Santana's eyes narrow at the accusation. "That you've seen," she says. "Do you really think we could go more than a week without visiting our best friend in the fucking hospital?"

Sarah drops her gaze, slightly ashamed. "Nobody wants to tell me what really happened."

"Some fucker tried to kill your sister," Santana says; "what more do you want to hear?"

Sarah flinches.

Santana sighs, not needing to look at Brittany to know she's handling this all wrong. "Look, I don't see why any of that is important," she says.

"But, you _know_ ," Sarah presses. "I mean, why was Rachel even with her, huh? And please don't give me all that bullshit story about some trip Quinn was planning."

"But, she _was_ planning a trip," Brittany says, and Sarah immediately deflates. "She mentioned it to me. It was going to be the three of us, and you and Rachel. She just wasn't sure where to go, so she asked Rachel. I don't know much about Geography, San has no patience, and she wanted to surprise you."

As much as she doesn't want to, Sarah believes Brittany. It's so easy to, because why would Brittany lie about something like this? She's Brittany. There isn't an awful bone in her body.

"It feels weird," Sarah says. "Not having her around."

"I get it, Little Fabray," Santana says. "Deputising as Head Cheerleader is awful. I don't know how she does it."

"She's Quinn," Brittany simply says, as if it explains everything.

Which, it probably does.

There are a select few brave people who come up to her during the day, but Sarah has no patience for them. She's never been one for adopting her sister's HBIC persona, but she finds it surprisingly easy to slip into.

People leave her alone after that.

* * *

In the afternoon, Sarah accompanies her father to the hospital, Quinn's phone in hand. It's been blowing up ever since the attack, most people asking questions and some of them wishing her well. Sarah wants to get access to her social media, just to post an update, so people will stop asking.

She feels a little weird using Quinn's unconscious finger to unlock but phone, but that gives way to surprise when she finds that Quinn's Home Screen is a picture of her, Rachel and Quinn together, while her Lock Screen is of the Unholy Trinity. It makes sense, sort of, but it still gives her pause.

She shakes her head to clear it, and then opens Quinn's _Facebook_ application. She's already logged in, so all Sarah has to do is write a short update, tag herself, and then post it. Hopefully, this'll make people leave at least Quinn alone.

Sarah goes through Quinn's emails, taking note of the important ones from school and from colleges (that aren't on their father's chosen list).

"Scandalous," she says under her breath, risking a smile.

Russell looks up from his own phone. "Did you say something?"

She shakes her head. "Nothing," she says.

He offers a tired smile, and then they both look back at their screens. She feels as if she might be invading Quinn's privacy, but this seems necessary. Quinn can shout at her later, when she finally wakes.

The doctors can't predict when that'll happen, but they've done all they can for her now.

Sarah puffs out a quiet breath, and then starts on Quinn's messages. Which is really the moment she discovers Ryan.

 _Ryan_.

Sarah has to read only the last few messages to realise this Ryan is very important to Quinn. She says _I love you_ and _I can't wait to be in your arms again_ , and Sarah knows, without a doubt, her sister's secrets go beyond college or stupid trips.

But, who's Ryan?

Sarah looks at Quinn's face, searching it for something.

Getting nothing.

She's tempted to read some more messages, but she stops herself. That would be a gross violation, and she can only wonder why Quinn wouldn't tell her about a secret boyfriend. She thought they were closer than that.

She absently wonders if Rachel knows. Santana and Brittany must know. Puck maybe did, before… Maybe this Ryan is like Puck... just, not what her father would want for his prized daughter.

But, still, why wouldn't Quinn tell _her_?

Sarah already knew about Puck. Could Ryan be any different? Though, from what little she's seen, Quinn is very serious about this Ryan. Sarah wonders for how long it's been going on; for them to sound so serious. How long has Quinn been keeping this a secret?

Deciding to check, she closes her eyes and scrolls right to the top, just to see the date. It started in December, apparently, but Sarah imagines they must have spoken a lot in person, because what little she glimpses of their first conversation doesn't include any greetings.

Sarah looks at Quinn again, silently pleading with her to wake up, so she can get answers.

Just, so she can get her sister back.

Quinn doesn't so much as twitch, and Sarah, maybe, hates her a little bit for it.

* * *

On Wednesday, Sarah almost trips over herself when she walks into class and spots Rachel sitting in the front row. It's not the brunette's usual seat, and Sarah frowns at the pair of seats they usually share in the fourth row.

It's almost time for the lesson to start, so Sarah doesn't have time to say much more than a quiet greeting as their teacher begins to talk.

Rachel barely looks up.

Sarah watches her throughout the lesson, noticing that she doesn't talk to anyone or do much more than take slow, careful notes. Her arms are hidden behind one of her Argyle sweaters, but Sarah spies the edges of bandages peeking out. It unsettles her. She's seen enough bandages at the hospital.

Right now, Sarah doesn't even know what she's going to say to Rachel when they finally talk. She's spent days thinking over everything, trying to put into words what she's been feeling, but seeing Rachel is harder than she expects.

First, she feels irrationally angry with the girl. She's been AWOL, difficult to contact and just not there, especially when Sarah has needed her. Second, she's hurt, in ways even she didn't realise until she laid eyes on the brunette. Third, she's confused. There's still so much she doesn't understand, and she needs Rachel to explain it to her.

Which, apparently, Rachel has no intention of doing.

It doesn't take all that long for Sarah to figure out Rachel is avoiding her. She always sits somewhere different in the classes they share, and she barely looks Sarah's way.

It merely angers Sarah more, and she does the thing and practically traps Rachel in her seat when the lesson before lunch ends.

They're going to talk about this.

"Sarah, what are you doing?" Rachel asks, huffing as she tugs on her bag to get it out of Sarah's grip.

"Wow, so you actually remember my name," Sarah says, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Rachel glares, but not at her. "Let go," she says.

"What is happening right now?" Sarah asks, maintaining her hold on the bag. She doesn't put it past Rachel to disappear in a flash.

"It's lunch," Rachel says. "And you're holding me hostage."

"Why won't you look at me?"

Rachel pauses here. She doesn't know how to tell Sarah she looks too much like Quinn. "Sarah, please."

"What's going on, Rachel? You haven't responded to any of messages, and then you show up at school and act as if we barely even know each other."

Rachel shakes her head. "We almost died," she says. "I didn't come all the way to Lima for this."

Sarah frowns, clearly confused.

"I didn't ask for any of this," Rachel says. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry, but I can't do this anymore."

"What are you talking about?"

Rachel just manages to free her bag from Sarah's hold. "We can't be friends anymore," she says.

"What? Why?" Sarah sputters.

Rachel can't look at her face. "We almost died," she says, as if that explains everything.

Maybe it does.

She and Quinn didn't try hard enough to hide it, and they almost paid the ultimate price for it.

Maybe this is for the best.

"I'm sorry," Rachel says one last time, and then exits the classroom, knowingly leaving Sarah even more confused. She'll worry about it later, she supposes, because she now has other people to talk to.

Rachel finds them hovering near their lockers, almost as if they've been waiting for her to seek them out. Maybe they have, because her return to school hasn't gone unnoticed.

Santana gives her a long look, and Brittany slips her hand into Rachel's.

"You look like shit," Santana says.

Rachel almost smiles. "Can - can we talk?"

Santana nods once, and then leads the way through the empty corridors to an empty classroom. Once they're safely inside, the two seniors wait patiently as Rachel paces for a moment, and then comes to a complete standstill.

"My mom knows," Rachel finally says, leaning against the closest wall and letting her arms hang limp. They hurt, more than she expected they would, and she thinks she's going to have to take a painkiller soon. "She's... not happy."

Brittany nods. "I have her for English," she says. "She's been awful this week."

Rachel sighs. "She wants me to stay away from Quinn, from Sarah, from Glee." She licks her lips. "She wants me to get a boyfriend. Apparently, all I have to do is _try_ , and I'll just be magically fixed."

Santana shakes her head in disgust.

Rachel drops her gaze. "Sometimes, I get the feeling she thinks all this is deserved," she says. "Like, we sinned, so we were punished for it." She swallows. "It's like she almost wishes Quinn would just - " she stops, unable to finish the sentence.

Brittany draws her into a hug, offering her comfort she hasn't received from anyone other than Mr Schuester. "What are you going to do?"

Rachel sighs, and then straightens. "I don't know," she says. "Right now, I'm just going to do whatever she wants. I mean, what happens to me if I don't? Quinn isn't here. She's - she's not here. I - I don't know what I'm supposed to do without her."

There are so many things Santana wants to say, but she knows she can't. Not without Quinn. And, really, Rachel is right. There's nothing she can do, and Santana can say that because she's sure she would have to make the same decisions if she were in the girl's place.

"I can't lose my family," Rachel whispers. "I won't let Quinn lose hers. Not without her permission. I already failed her once. I'm not going to do it again."

Brittany hugs her again.

"I promised to protect her," Rachel says, and she feels her arms throb. "My job doesn't just end because she's not here."

And, this is the first time Santana truly understands why Quinn would risk it all for this girl. She didn't get it before, but she would always support Quinn, regardless of whether she understood.

She gets it now, though.

"If you need anything," Santana says. "Anything at all. You come to me, okay?"

Rachel nods, suddenly feeling emotional. "Okay," she says. "Thank you, Santana. Brittany. Thank you for helping me save her; helping me protect her."

Santana just punches her shoulder, and then winces when Rachel cringes at the pain radiating through her arms. "Sorry."

Rachel shrugs. "I've had worse," she murmurs, and then walks away, leaving the classroom with a hollow feeling in her gut. She has someone very important to speak to on her apparent tour.

She finds Mr Schuester in the Choir Room. He's sifting through sheet music and she just watches him for a moment, wondering how different her life is going to be from now on.

"Mr Schue," she says, and he immediately turns around.

Rachel steps further into the room, and doesn't bother to stop until she's hugging him, squeezing as tightly as her arms will allow.

He lets out a slight groan when she releases him, but she's not even sorry. "You're back," he says.

"I am," she says. "I can write, so my mother said it was time."

He nods once. "How are you?"

"I've been better," she answers truthfully. "Things have been tense at home, Sarah hates me, Quinn probably will, too, and Shelby wants me to quit Glee."

His face falls. "What?"

"She claims she's been too lenient with me," Rachel explains. "I've been too... free, as it were, and she's planning on keeping a closer eye on me, so I don't stray. She - she knows who's in this Club, and she wants me as far away from... it."

"It?"

"She calls it a sickness," she says, almost shuddering. "And, plus, Sarah's in Glee. I'm supposed to be staying away from her, too."

Mr Schuester blinks. "But, these are your friends, Rachel," he says. "They're your family."

Rachel's smile is sad, almost resigned. "I know," she says. "But, I can't realistically say that I wouldn't choose them over my biological one."

Mr Schuester blinks. "Would Shelby really do that?"

"It's what she threatened me with the last time she found out," she says. "It's either that or a conversion camp." She says it so simply, as if she's just accepted it.

He shakes his head in disbelief. "I had no idea," he says. "She seems so... normal."

"She is," Rachel says, shrugging. " _I'm_ the abnormal one, apparently."

He has no idea what to say.

"I'm sorry," she says. "I _love_ Glee. But, she's going to take away everything I love... and she won't hesitate to use my brothers and home against me. This is the absolute last thing she wants, Mr Schue. Her biggest nightmare. She won't have a gay daughter. She hates them."

"You know why, don't you?"

"My father," she says, and that's really all she's planning on saying. "Mr Schue?"

"Yes?"

"She can't know you know," she says. "You have to promise she'll never know."

"None of this seems fair, Rachel," he says.

"I know," she says. "I think that's the point, right? I'm supposed to learn from this, or whatever."

"Have you?"

She sighs. "I'm gay, Mr Schue," she says. "Whatever my mother has planned for me isn't going to change that."

"So, why are you doing this?"

"I can handle whatever she throws at me, but Quinn shouldn't have to," she says.

"What does that mean?"

She shakes her head. "Do you know Quinn is going to Yale?" she asks. "She's worked so hard, you know? She's finally getting out of here, and I won't do anything to get in the way of that."

Mr Schuester's brow furrows. "Rachel, are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"Please, Mr Schue," she says; "she can't know."

"Okay," he eventually says, but it's obvious he doesn't like it at all. "Okay, Rachel, I promise."

She closes her eyes for a long moment. "I love her, you know?"

"Shelby?"

Rachel nods. "But, I hate her. I hate her so much."

Mr Schuester just draws her into another hug. "You come to me, okay? If you need anything at all, you come to me."

Rachel nods against his chest. "Please will you keep checking on Quinn," she says. "I need someone to care about her for me; someone who knows everything."

"Of course," he says.

"I love her, too," she says. "I wish I'd told her more often."

"I'm sure she knows."

"I hope," she says. "I hope she still believes it when she wakes up."

"She will," he assures her.

Rachel can only hope it'll prove to be enough.

* * *

Rachel wouldn't say life gets infinitely worse, but it doesn't get any better. Without Glee, her friendship group dwindles to zero (plus Finn, who still seems to like her, for some reason), particularly when she can't quite explain why she's had to leave.

Basically, Sarah isn't the only one angry at her.

It's not as if they have some Nationals competition to rehearse for, so she doesn't get why they're so up in arms about her apparent decision. She's injured, anyway. She needs to recover, or whatever.

It's all bullshit and everyone knows it.

She misses Quinn, desperately, and she spends most of her time going through the texts they've shared in the months they've been together. She even does the thing and changes Quinn's name from Lucas to her real one.

She's past caring at this point. Her mother knows. What use is there to hide it, especially when she's sure all her friends hate her? She can't imagine a point where she and Sarah get to have their friendship back. It's been burned; destroyed, and it hurts in ways Rachel won't be able to explain.

So, school is horrible.

Being at home is worse.

She still doesn't know anything about Quinn's prognosis. Just that she's not yet awake, but the doctors are optimistic.

If she thought the last few weeks in New York were bad, she's mistaken. This, this right now, is the worst time of her life.

She cries a lot, which she tries to curb. The problem is she's barely sleeping. The nightmares are crippling, and she's terrified of her window. It's the reason she spends an afternoon dragging her chest of drawers across the room to cover as much of it as possible.

It makes her feel slightly safer, but the nightmares are still crippling. She can't stop hearing his voice or the crunch of Quinn's skull. Sometimes, she wakes in a cold sweat, imagining blood on her hands.

It hurts.

This part hurts.

It's maybe what she deserves.

* * *

Sarah is in the room when Quinn first wakes, Sunday, sixteen days after the attack, her eyes slowly opening and her mouth making a sound that's mostly pained. She blinks against the light, coughs once, mumbles the word, "Rachel," and Sarah suddenly just _knows_.

Oh.

 _Oh_.

It catches her off guard, but also not.

Suddenly, so many things make sense about her sister, about Rachel and about them together. It amazes her how she never noticed before. How could she have missed it? How hard must they have worked to hide it?

Sarah was right there, always.

Just, how?

"Let me get the doctor," Sarah says, and then goes to find a nurse. Her mind is spinning, remembering every little moment she's spent with Rachel and Quinn. It seems so unlikely, but everything is now clicking into place.

Sarah has no idea how to feel about any of it.

Her sister.

Her best friend.

They're... that.

It's unsettling, though she can't pinpoint exactly why. She tries to stop thinking about it as the doctors run all the necessary tests, trying to determine Quinn's cognitive function.

Her speech is untouched despite her apparent grogginess. She doesn't seem to have any nerve damage, which is a huge relief. The problem is she's unable to tell them the correct year they're in, which prompts another round of tests.

Quinn is exhausted and already asleep by the time her parents arrive, and, as much as Sarah wants to mention her new discovery to them, she knows she has to be sure.

And, to be sure, she's going to have to talk to Rachel.

Just the idea of doing that puts her on edge.

Because, God, Rachel is _Ryan_.

She has the sudden urge to drive straight to Rachel's house and demand the truth. She lied. She lied about all of it, and Sarah believed her. She believed Santana and Brittany, who must also know.

God, they all must think her a fool, all of them banding together to keep Quinn's secret.

Sarah blinks, and then visibly deflates, even as she sits in the corner of Quinn's room, watching her sister sleep after all the excitement. Her mother is sitting beside her bed, praying, with a Bible in her lap, and her father is talking to the doctors.

Quinn's secret, that would probably tear apart this family.

Sarah can't quite figure out what she feels about this truth she's just discovered about the two most important people in her life. She hates that they lied to her, but she has to accept it was probably necessary.

But, still.

What she does next is probably the worst, most selfish thing she's ever done.

She's already given herself fingerprint access to Quinn's phone, so she unlocks it and brings up her text conversation with Ryan. It's different reading it with new eyes, and Sarah feels sick to her stomach at times.

It was so difficult for them.

And, yet, they still tried.

Sarah reads things such as _my mother invited The Tall One over for dinner again_ and _I just wish we could be together without risking our family's love_ and _it sucks that you're hurt right now and there's literally nothing I can do_ and _your sister still thinks I should just date The Tall One to get everyone off my back_ , and _I hate this; I hate that we have to lie to her_ and _I love you, R; please, whatever this life throws at us, believe that I love you more than the world_ and _I regret nothing; I never have and I never will_.

Sarah would cry, if she weren't currently sitting in a room with her parents.

She does, however, shudder when she reads the words _I want to take us all on a trip, R. Baby S and I had a talk about the future today, and I feel like the worst sister in the world making promises when I don't even know if I'll still be a part of this family after graduation to be able to keep them_.

Sarah looks at Quinn, who's still asleep. Her sister believes she'll lose her family to this and, frankly, Sarah can't realistically say her fears are unfounded. Russell and Judy Fabray are big players in the church community, and this truth would cause a gigantic scandal that their parents would do everything to bury. They would probably ship her off to Canada before they let this truth come out.

Sarah closes her eyes for a moment, suddenly relieved she's kept her mouth shut. But, God, what's supposed to happen now?

Sarah reads until their last messages, a quick _on my way_ and _I can't wait to see you_. As if their lives weren't going to be forever changed by the end of the evening.

Quinn is in a coma, and Rachel is -

Well, Sarah doesn't know what Rachel is. All she knows is that none of this should be happening. She almost wishes she could go back to how things were before Rachel ever entered their lives. Things seemed so much simpler before.

Not better, just easier.

Quinn was still her Quinn; her unassuming sister.

Now, Sarah doesn't know who this Quinn is. But, does her apparent sexuality change all that much about her? Is Sarah just as bad as the next person for thinking along those lines? It's just, Quinn is her sister. The last thing she wants to be doing is thinking about her sister and Rachel.

It's too much, all of a sudden, and Sarah locks Quinn's phone, shaking her head at herself and at her sister. At Rachel and at this ridiculous situation.

She's suddenly angry and confused, and she needs answers.

The only person she can get them from is Rachel because, God, she doesn't think she'll ever be able to look Quinn in the eyes again.

* * *

Rachel is a creature of habit.

At times, it bothered Sarah, but now she's grateful for it. Basically, if Sarah goes looking for her, she's likely to find her. And, she does, in the library, sitting primly.

Sitting sadly, Sarah notes, but her underlying betrayal lingers, clouding everything.

It takes a moment for Rachel to notice her, and the brunette startles at her presence. It might have been amusing on any other day, but Sarah finds the situation the furthest thing from funny.

Rachel blinks. "Sarah, hi," she says, her brow furrowed. She clearly doesn't know what to make of the blonde's sudden appearance. While it's only been a few days since they last spoke, it feels as if there's a gigantic gulf between them.

Sarah cuts straight to it, clearing her throat and narrowing her eyes. "Quinn woke up on Sunday," she says, watching Rachel very carefully.

It takes everything Rachel has not to react, even though her heart rate skyrockets at the news and her palms start to sweat. "Oh?" she says. "Is - is she okay?"

"Everything is working," Sarah says. "She's just confused."

Rachel keeps her gaze on Sarah, hearing something very specific in her voice.

"She doesn't know what year it is," Sarah elaborates with a slight shrug; "which would be funny if it wasn't so worrying."

Rachel can feel her heart pounding in all her limbs, blood rushing in her ears. "What year does she think it is?"

"2019."

Rachel would smile, but it feels as if her muscles are frozen in place.

"I mean, she must be confused, right?" Sarah says, pausing quite deliberately. "Because the first thing she did when she opened her eyes was say _your_ name."

Rachel blinks, and feels tears spring to her eyes. "That's - " she starts, but stops, because she doesn't even know what to say. How is she even supposed to respond to that?

"Which is odd," Sarah says, almost conversationally; "because she should have been saying Ryan's name, right?"

Rachel's breath catches. "Ryan?"

"Apparently, he's her secret boyfriend," Sarah says. "I found all these messages in her phone."

Rachel has never wanted to disappear so much in her entire life. Sarah knows. Rachel knows she knows, so she can only wonder what all this is about. "Oh."

"Did you know about him?" Sarah asks. "Because, apparently, you know all sorts of things about my sister that I don't."

Rachel clenches her jaw, suddenly having enough of this line of questioning. It's obvious Sarah knows, so she's going to put an end to this charade. "What do you want, Sarah?" she asks, her tone terse.

"Why did you lie?"

Rachel almost scoffs, her hands balling into fists. "Oh, come on, Sarah, we both know you're smart enough to answer that question for yourself."

Sarah narrows her eyes. "You're gay."

Rachel lifts and drops her shoulders.

"Is Quinn?"

Rachel glares at her. "Would you hate us if we were?" she asks. "Love us less? Want to change us? Shun us? What would you do, huh? What would your _parents_ do?"

Sarah flinches, unable to answer.

"Well, there's the answer to your question, then," she almost snaps, quickly gathering her things. She needs to get out of here. She needs to get as far away from here as she can before she bursts into tears.

Quinn is awake.

God, Quinn's awake.

Rachel can barely breathe.

"Do you even care she's awake?" Sarah asks, which she realises is a mistake.

Rachel freezes, and her gaze is ice cold when it meets Sarah's. "Do I even care," she echoes. "Do you think this is fun for me? I haven't seen Quinn in nineteen days. I barely sleep, because I keep seeing her slumped body, hearing the crack of her skull and hearing his voice tell me exactly what he's going to do to both of us if I didn't stop him. I'm a mess, and I hate the world, but I have to do all of this because I did the ridiculously stupid thing and fell in love with the absolute worst person, who turned into the best person for me. Do I even care? Don't you see? I care too fucking much."

And, Sarah is left to watch her retreating back as Rachel storms away, absently wondering if she might have handled that very, very wrong.

* * *

The tears are unstoppable.

Rachel doesn't even bother to try to suppress them. As soon as she leaves the library, she disappears into a bathroom and cries.

Cries and cries and wonders if there will ever be a day that's easy. It's all been such a struggle, forcing her way through the endless days without any tangible news about Quinn.

But, she's awake. Not completely okay yet, but she's awake, and Rachel feels just a bit lighter at the sound of that news. She wants nothing more than to get in her car and go and see Quinn right this instant, but she's been forced to come to school with her mother, her car keys confiscated until further notice.

It takes another fourteen minutes to pull herself together, and she realises belatedly that she's late for her next class. It should worry her - particularly if it gets back to her mother - but Rachel finds herself not caring as much as she probably should.

Quinn is awake.

This day is already shot to hell.

Which is why she stays put, sitting completely still as she attempts to force away the emotions she's been keeping at bay for so long. Quinn is awake, which is the greatest news she could have ever received.

Only.

Only, now she's faced with another set of problems. It's one thing to avoid Sarah and Glee and her other friends, but it's going to be a beast and a half evading Quinn. She's stubborn and determined, and she'll have questions and want answers.

Rachel has nothing for her.

She just has nothing left.

With a heavy sigh, Rachel takes out her phone and changes some settings. She's going to need all the help she can get to get through the rest of the school year without completely losing it.

If she hasn't already.

* * *

"So, a little birdie told me you finally opened your fucking eyes."

Quinn blinks at the voice, her head turning towards the source, and she smiles at the sight of Santana and Brittany. "Hey," she says.

Santana saunters into the room, her eyes trailing over Quinn's body, as if she's trying to make sure she's still whole. She won't admit that said 'little birdie' was an extremely irate Sarah Fabray, who was particularly miffed about being left in the dark about the supposed romantic relationship between her sister and best friend.

Quinn doesn't need to know that yet.

"You look like shit," Santana says.

"I feel like shit," Quinn says, her voice still a little raspy from disuse and the breathing tube. "They won't let me leave."

"Don't you have to, like, not feel like shit to get out of here?"

"Shut up with your logic," Quinn murmurs, her eyes closing for a moment. Her head hurts and her body is so stupidly weak that she can't stay awake for more than a few hours at a time.

Santana moves to the side of the bed and touches the top of Quinn's shaved head. "You're going to look like such a badass lesbian," she says.

Quinn cracks a smile, and then sobers in the next breath. Santana immediately knows what's coming and, though she knows to be prepared for it, she really doesn't want to have to be the one to break this news.

Quinn asks, "How is she?" and Santana feels like she's failed her best friend.

Santana and Brittany exchange a look, but it's Santana who says, "Her mother found out."

Quinn closes her eyes again and keeps them closed. "She's not responding to my texts or answering my calls. They don't even go through."

"She might have blocked you," Brittany offers as explanation, which doesn't help at all.

"Why would she do that?"

"It might not have been her who did it," Santana says, practically predicting what her own mother might do if ever she learned the truth of her relationship with Brittany.

Quinn has never hated someone as much as she hates Shelby Corcoran in this moment.

"She's alienated everyone," Santana continues. "Sarah, all of Glee, us. She claims she's protecting you, which means her mother must have something on her."

"Fuck," Quinn says, and she almost smiles at the fact she remembers how to swear, while other things seem to evade her. "I promised her I would protect her."

Santana runs a finger over Quinn's left eyebrow. "We're going to figure this out."

"I can't even do anything," Quinn says, slight exasperation in her tone. "What - what do I do, San?"

And, really, Santana doesn't have the answers for her. So, she says, "Just, focus on getting better and stronger, okay?"

Brittany nods in agreement. "San's right," she says. "We're going to figure this all out, you'll see."

Quinn is inclined to believe it when Brittany says it, because she doesn't just say empty words. She also has an uncanny ability just to know things. She figured out how Quinn felt about Rachel long before Quinn was able to voice it aloud.

"I hope you're right, B," she says, yawning. She can already feel herself fading again, and she hates how exhausted doing nothing can be. She looks at Santana. "Please will you tell her I'm sorry," she says; "and that I love her."

Santana makes sure to pull her face, but they all know she's going to do it. "What do I look like?" she scoffs.

"Thanks, San," she says with a tired smile.

"Whatever," Santana says, shrugging. "Just, you know, focus on getting better, okay?"

"Okay."

Santana watches as Quinn allows her eyes to close, still feeling conflicted. It's obvious Quinn doesn't know Sarah knows about her and Rachel. She's not sure it's wise to bring that kind of stress to her life, but it might be better coming from Santana than from Sarah, who looked particularly devastated about being lied to.

Santana clears her throat. "Babe," she says, and Quinn's eyes open slowly. "Sarah knows."

Quinn blinks. "Oh," she murmurs. "I figured they all knew."

Santana shakes her head. "Has anyone told you what happened with the police case?"

"My mom explained it," she says. "He came after us because he thought we were... doing something untoward, and now he's dead."

Santana shudders. "She tried to protect you," she says. "She's still trying to protect you and your secrets."

"I wish she wouldn't."

Santana thinks she doesn't mean it, but it's their truth, now. "I think it'll be bad if she stopped," she says. "Particularly for you."

"Why?" Quinn asks. "I'm ready for this part, remember?"

"I think her mother has something on you."

"Like what?"

"I don't know," Santana says; "but it must be serious enough that she's willing to fold to protect you from it."

Quinn's head is starting to hurt, and she closes her eyes to try to alleviate it. It's too much, all of a sudden. She needs it all to stop. She needs the world to slow down, and she needs Rachel.

 _Rachel_.

Quinn opens her eyes. "Please will you tell her I'm sorry," she whispers. "And that I love her. I love her so, so much." There are tears pooling in her eyes, and she wills them away.

Still, they fall, and Brittany wipes them for her, fingers gentle against her skin.

"We'll tell her," Brittany says. "We'll tell her."

Quinn slips back into slumber, her heart both warm and as cold as night, wishing with all her might that this is all that's coming.

Nothing more.

Let this be all.

* * *

Brittany says, "Quinn said to tell you she's sorry, and that she loves you," and Rachel just walks away without a word, her heart cracking open in her chest as it bleeds, and bleeds.

* * *

It takes forever, but the doctors eventually let Quinn go home. She's weak and irritable and moody, and everything is just so much harder because she already has diabetes, which means her parents make sure a nurse comes to the house every morning and every evening to check her over.

Nobody else is willing to redress her wounds, and Quinn much prefers a stranger, anyway.

It's hard. It's the hardest thing she's ever had to do, really. Recovering from her surgeries is one thing, but she has to do it all in a house that suddenly feels as if it doesn't belong to her. There's no Rachel, which is worse than anything she imagines, and it isn't as if anyone other than Brittany - maybe - would even come into this house to visit her.

Her parents rarely do that, anyway. She's in the same house as them, and the most she gets is her mother bringing her meals and encouraging her to be more mobile.

And Sarah.

Quinn definitely isn't going to be the one to bring up what Sarah may or may not know, and Sarah doesn't look as if she's going to, either. Instead, they have weird conversations without ever really saying anything, all while Sarah makes sure to be touching her in some way, as if she just wants to hold onto Quinn with everything she has.

Quinn supposes she's relieved her sister doesn't seem to hate her or be disgusted by her. The worst, she reasons, is that Sarah's anger might come from the idea of Quinn _and Rachel_ , but that's not something they're going to talk about.

Quinn is tempted, of course, to ask Sarah about Rachel. It's something she's so desperate to know, but she holds her tongue and focuses on the work Miss Pillsbury brings to her home from her various classes. She's missed so much already, and, while Miss Pillsbury remains optimistic, there's a certain unease in the woman that suggests Quinn might end up suffering a lot more than anticipated after missing so much school.

If only her brain would just start working properly.

Santana promises she's already on it, and Quinn is settled enough in her father's desire to see her succeed with his name that she knows he'll fight whatever battle they might be facing with the school's board or even any of the colleges she's applied to.

Well, only the ones he knows about.

One thing at a time and all that.

Her head hurts more often than not, and she's on so much medication that she has to use an actual app to keep track of everything. Her moods can shift at the drop of a hat, and she ends up in tears on the daily, the world already so foreboding without tacking on everything else. She also rages from time to time, and she's rather adept at throwing things at her wall.

It's just a lot.

It's the hardest thing she's ever had to go through.

But she does. One day at a time. She gets through the days, one thing on her mind; one person giving her some kind of motivation. Because, as soon as she's as better as she can be, she'll be able to go to school.

Which means she'll be able to see Rachel, and it's really all she wants.

Nothing more, and nothing less.

* * *

It takes three long, exhausting weeks for Quinn to get caught up with her physical therapy and her schoolwork, and then another two days for her surgeon to give her the go-ahead to return to school. It's the moment she's been desperately waiting for, but, now that it's here, she's not sure she's ready for it.

Santana warns her with a cryptic, _some things have changed, so you should probably prepare yourself_ , but Quinn figures out pretty quickly that no amount of preparation would have been enough.

But, still, she puts on her big girl pants - that have a convenient little clip, because her fingers are still struggling with basic buttons - a warm sweater to hide the loss of muscle definition and a beanie, because, God, her hair is atrocious, and then steps out into the world to face what it has in store for her.

Santana drives her to school on the first day, because Quinn just can't bring herself even to _talk_ to her sister about anything other than nothing at this point. Not when Quinn knows Sarah _knows_ and still hasn't said anything. Not when they have literal days before all of this - everything she's worked so hard to accomplish - is going to come to an end and she's going to walk away with a diploma.

Quinn is ready.

She knows it's only a matter of time.

But she has a plan.

She just has to convince Rachel of it.

* * *

Rachel freezes when she sees her, just casually standing in the school's corridor and talking to her two best friends. She's not in her cheerleading uniform, and wearing a grey woollen hat over head, probably to hide her buzz of hair. She's sporting a frown, watching as Santana reads something out to her.

The sight of her is so... disturbing, and Rachel is frozen for a few precious seconds, just taking in everything she can. It's been so long since she's laid eyes on the most beautiful girl in the world, and Rachel needs to replenish all the sightings she's missed.

She already knows people are staring at Quinn, and she hates that she's just another one. It's just so jarring. It's been almost two months since Quinn was last seen in these corridors, and Rachel started to take it for granted that this moment wouldn't actually happen.

Except it is. Quinn is here, and, if Rachel knows Quinn at all, the girl isn't just going to let Rachel be. It won't ever be that simple, and Quinn wouldn't be the girl she loves if she just left things as they are. Rachel doesn't even know what she's supposed to say to her, at this point.

She knows she's not _supposed_ to say anything, but there's an inevitability that they're going to be having some of conversation at some point that exists in the air, whether she likes it or not. And, God, she _wants_ to talk to Quinn. She wants to hear her voice and hear her laugh and see her smile up close and possibly touch her.

She _wants_ , and she has to force herself not to.

She doesn't realise how long she's been staring until Quinn suddenly looks in her direction, and Rachel has to force herself not to flinch at the sight of those hazel eyes. In that one look, Rachel learns everything she's wished she hadn't already known.

It's pain.

It's really all it is.

Pain and loss and confusion. There's also relief and determination. And then disbelief and the kind of hurt that catches Rachel way off guard until the moment she feels a heavy arm land on her shoulders, basically weighing her down.

"Hey, Rach."

Rachel has to look away from Quinn, because she can't bear to see the expression on her face. But then she also can't handle looking at Finn's face, either, and it hurts.

It's all just a mess.

"Are you ready for Mr Schue's test?" Finn asks, wonderfully oblivious to her turmoil. God, she envies him this.

Rachel just about manages a nod, and then lets him turn her and lead the way to their Spanish class. She doesn't need to be looking to know the devastation on Quinn's face. She's the one who put it there. It's her fault.

It's -

"You didn't answer," Finn suddenly says as they continue to walk. "Are you ready for the test?"

She blinks up at him, just hating herself just that bit more. "Oh, yeah, I guess I am," she manages. "What about you? I know you said you were nervous about some of the conjugations."

His face shifts into one of confusion, and, yeah, she doesn't have the mental capacity to deal with this.

She speeds up when she sees their classroom, and then ducks out from under his arm with a quick _good luck_ over her shoulder and slips into the room.

Mr Schuester immediately catches her eye, and it's both the first and last thing she wants. He can probably tell, just from that one look, everything she's feeling in this moment. She doesn't show it to everyone, but it's on full blast for him.

It's probably the reason why, half an hour later, when she hands him her completed test, he allows her to leave the classroom.

"You look as if you need a moment," he says, his tone kind, because he must know Quinn is back. It's all anyone has been able to talk about.

She almost laughs. Almost. Instead, she just takes the Pass he hands her, and then she leaves, careful to avoid Finn's eyes. And Sarah's.

What a mess.

It's just a huge, gigantic mess.

Those are the jumbled thoughts she'll blame for what she does next, because there's really no other explanation for it. Her feet take her to the second floor bathroom without her brain's consent. It's the one place she would go to if she needs a moment, and she should really know better.

She really, really should.

Because, of course, it's not a safe place for _only_ her, and she ends up walking right into that bathroom and coming face-to-face with the one person she was hoping to avoid.

_Huh._

_Were Quinn's eyes always that green?_


	12. Chapter 12

**XII**

Quinn is sitting on a closed toilet in one of the stalls when the door swings open, and she visibly flinches at the sound. The entire day has already been a sensory overload, and this is just the icing on the very gross cake.

Her head lifts, almost automatically, and it's the moment she sees both her saviour and her turmoil.

She blinks once, twice, and then drops her head again, because this may be the one thing she wants out of the world, but it's also the last. She wants to go home. She wants to crawl into her bed in a very dark room and just forget what she's seen and experienced today.

Santana tried to prepare her, but no amount of preparation would have been enough. Quinn suspected it was 'over,' but she didn't expect Rachel -

Quinn breathes deeply, suddenly unsure what to expect, given the way her morning has already gone. She almost wishes the door would open and Rachel would leave, because she's not ready to deal with the fact Rachel - _her_ Rachel - is actually dating Finn Hudson.

Quinn almost throws up again.

When Quinn doesn't hear any other sounds for at least another minute, she braves lifting her head again, and then immediately regrets it when she sees the look on Rachel's face. She's visibly torn, conflicted in a way Quinn wishes she could make better, with words or actions.

Something.

What Rachel ends up saying is, "She knows we've had sex."

Quinn blinks, because they already established it wasn't, technically, illegal. Just, Shelby _shouldn't_ know, anyway, because -

"She'll go the police with it," Rachel says. "It won't even matter that there's _nothing_ there. They'll have to investigate if the mother of a minor shows any kind of concern about her child's involvement with anyone older. I'm not willing to take that chance. Are you?"

Quinn almost laughs.

Rachel just breathes.

"I haven't laid eye on you in two months, and that's the first thing you say to me," Quinn says, and her voice sounds foreign to her own ears. "Well, I missed you too, baby."

Rachel audibly swallows. "Do you honestly think I haven't _missed_ you?" Rachel questions, and her voice is a little high. "It has been _hell_ without you."

Quinn _knows_ she shouldn't - she knows it deep in her heart - but she cannot possibly resist saying, "Well, it looks as if you're doing just fine."

Rachel doesn't respond for a moment, and then very pointedly asks, "If this about Finn? Is this seriously about _Finn_?"

Quinn rubs at her temple, her migraine blooming. It's barely been a few hours of school, and she's already exhausted. She _knew_ it would be tiring, but she knows she needs to be in class to make sure she can graduate without an actual Truancy label against her name.

As if things weren't already difficult enough.

It was naive to think she could separate her personal and school life, because the one doesn't really exist without the other, given Rachel Berry is currently standing right in front of her in their school's bathroom.

"Why didn't you answer any of my calls?" Quinn asks, her voice coming out smaller than she initially intends. She'll blame it on the pounding in her skull. "My texts. Why - why is it suddenly just over?"

"She _knows_ , Quinn," Rachel says. "She will destroy you."

Quinn almost grins. "Baby, look at me," she says; "I'm indestructible."

"Don't you _dare_ joke about that," Rachel hisses. "It's not even a little bit funny, okay? You - you were - you didn't _see_ it the way I did, so don't you dare make light of what we went through."

Quinn looks at her, truly, and it is as if she is seeing her for the first time. Rachel looks exhausted, tired in a way that is in her very bones, and Quinn's heart aches. It's obvious Rachel is still haunted by what happened, and Quinn just wants to make it better. "Baby," she breathes. "Come here."

Rachel doesn't move.

"Rachel, please," Quinn whispers.

"I can't," Rachel says, and it sounds as if it pains her to utter the words. "I - I can't. I have to be strong for both of us, okay? I have to do this. Please understand. We - we don't get to be happy. She wins, Quinn. She was always going to win. We were just kidding ourselves the entire time, and I've accepted it. Now it's your turn."

Quinn didn't think she could feel any worse than she does in this moment, but the pain in her chest has overtaken the throbbing in her head.

Isn't that something?

"You know, I've already accepted a lot about my life," Quinn says softly, her gaze focused on Rachel's shoes. "My position in my family; the fact I won't be able to keep you and them at the same time; that I have to outperform every goddamn person in this ridiculous place, but - " her voice catches. "I - I didn't think anything could hurt as much as having to accept this moment right here."

Rachel closes her eyes, not wanting to see the look on Quinn's face.

"I - I thought losing Puck would be the worst of it," Quinn says. "Just the knowledge my father had a hand in driving him and his family right out of town; God, nothing should compare to that… but this is so much worse." Quinn shakes her head. "It's worse than your leaving."

"Quinn."

"I don't - I just - I _want_ to understand," Quinn says. "And, I mean, I guess I do, but, fuck, please don't make me."

"Quinn."

"Please," she whispers. "Please don't do this to us. Please don't give up."

It hurts.

Everything just aches, and there's nothing Rachel can do to make it better. What can she even say? As far as they know, she's made her deal with the Devil, just to make sure they even get to keep walking through these corridors.

"Is that what you want?" Rachel asks, barely audible. "Do you want me to leave?"

"What I want," Quinn murmurs. "What I want is for you to be with me."

"Quinn."

"Why - why would you pick _him_?"

Rachel freezes.

"Why would you pick anyone?" _Who isn't me_ , is left unspoken.

Rachel can't bring herself to reply for long, long minutes. "I didn't have a choice," she finally says.

Quinn's eyes bore into her, long and hard, and she feels small and insignificant. "Choice," Quinn says, the word sounding like acid on her tongue. "You didn't have a choice."

Rachel knows she shouldn't, but she can't resist taking a step forward, just wanting to be closer to her. "Quinn," she says, just needing to say her name. When next is she going to be able to say it?

"You're not choosing me," Quinn says, and she sounds so, so tired.

"I am," Rachel insists. "This is the way I choose you. Can't you see? How - how else am I supposed to protect you? How else are we both supposed to survive this, Quinn?"

Quinn clenches her jaw, unwilling to say all the words she wants to. Her head is pounding and her heart is aching, and she just wishes the world would stop spinning for one fucking minute.

Rachel doesn't move when she says, "I had no choice," again, hating herself just that bit more.

Quinn breathes out slowly. "What happens now?"

"What?"

Quinn lifts her head. "What happens now?" she repeats. "What happens to _us_?"

Rachel knows what she has to do. She's known from the moment that bat swung and shattered every plan Quinn has had for them. She knows the words she has to say. They're there, just sitting on the tip of her tongue, but, God, she can't bring herself to say them.

She _can't_.

So she says, "Now, you graduate," with a false sense of confidence. "You graduate, and you go to Yale, and you live your best life, and - "

"And what?" Quinn asks. "I'm just supposed to forget about you? I'm just supposed to leave you here?"

"You were always going to," Rachel's mouth says without her permission, and she knows it's not fair. It's not Quinn's fault she's older and has other expectations of her. It's nobody's fault but the external forces working to keep them from being together the way they deserve, and she knows she's hurt Quinn more than anything in this moment.

Quinn doesn't say anything.

Rachel doesn't move.

The gulf between them is _massive_.

It stretches and stretches across the space, a line drawn in the proverbial sand. They had to know nothing would ever be the same when at least one of their parents found out. At least, this way, Quinn is still safe. As long as Russell Fabray never finds out, they both stand a chance of maybe holding onto their families.

For now, at least.

"Is that it?" Quinn finally asks. "Is that really all you have to say to me?"

Rachel can feel she's seconds away from crying tears she promised herself she wouldn't. She's shed enough of them over this mess they've managed to find themselves in. "I'm sorry," she whispers, but she doesn't think Quinn hears her, because the blonde's next words are the most cutting Rachel has ever heard.

"I wish you'd just let him kill me," she says, eyes focused on the tiles. "It would hurt less than this."

* * *

Rachel doesn't make a habit of skipping school, but she knows there's no way she can possibly return to her classes after such a confession. It catches her way off guard, and she stumbles out of the bathroom, needing to get as far away as possible.

_I wish you'd just let him kill me._

_It would hurt less than this_.

The words ring in her head and she walks, somewhat blindly in some direction she's not sure. Fortunately or unfortunately, she ends up at Shelby's classroom, practically falling into it and thanking her lucky stars it's empty of students.

Shelby gets to her feet at the sight of her, eyes wide. "Rach - " is all she manages to get out before Rachel is throwing up all over her floor.

Shelby is frozen in place for a beat, and it's just enough time for Rachel to say, "I hate you," with so much venom that there's really no way they can ever recover from what has happened between them.

* * *

As a consequence of her head injury, Quinn's moods shift quite uncontrollably, and that first week back at school is a testament to just how much control she actually has over her own emotions. It's made her… unstable, in a sense, which is why she has to meet with Miss Pillsbury every day during lunch.

There's that, but there's also the tiny problem that she may not be able to graduate, given the amount of school she's missed this year. It's ridiculous, really, because she's been able to keep up with everything as best she can, somehow managing to maintain a decent GPA after the disaster that's been this entire year.

"It's only one course," Miss Pillsbury explains, fiddling with the edge of a sheet of paper. "Your AP English."

Quinn nods slowly, already feeling a headache building behind her eyes. "I thought Mr Blunt said it would be okay."

"He did," Miss Pillsbury assures her. "He's perfectly fine with signing off that you've fulfilled all the requirements to graduate."

"But…?"

Miss Pillsbury looks to her left. "But, you see, you're also going to need the Head of Department's signature, and that person is not Mr Blunt." She audibly swallows. "It's Miss Corcoran."

Quinn almost laughs, or cries. Something. Instead, she remains perfectly still and wonders if this is part of what Rachel was talking about. Protecting her. Shelby has the power to derail Quinn's entire high school career, and she's holding her daughter's love life hostage.

Quinn breathes out slowly. "Oh."

"I'm going to talk to her about it," Miss Pillsbury tells her. "It - it's unfair, and you've more than made up the credit. We're going to figure this out, Quinn. There's no need to worry."

And, the worst part is that Quinn isn't worried at all. She's resigned, and that's probably more dangerous than anything. If Rachel has given up, what use is there in Quinn's fighting?

Without a word, she gets to her feet and smooths out the slight wrinkles in her dress. "Thank you, Miss Pillsbury," she says, her voice slow.

When she walks out of the office, she knows there's only one place to go. She knows, without a doubt, this is what Shelby wants, so Quinn makes her way to what she knows is Shelby's classroom, her face shifting into something passive.

The two of them have never actually had a conversation before, and Quinn knows that's for the best. Now, it seems it's necessary, and, like Rachel, Quinn has resolved to give the woman whatever she wants. If Quinn doesn't get to be with Rachel, the absolute last thing she wants is to be made to stay for another year in this hell hole.

But Quinn knows, already, that she could easily call Shelby's bluff. Shelby wouldn't risk going against a Fabray - because there's not a chance in hell Russell won't get himself involved - for something so meaningless, which is why Quinn knows this is all just some ridiculous ploy to get Quinn to go to her.

So, she goes, and the first thing that registers in her mind is just how alike Shelby and Rachel actually look. It's awful, really, because Rachel's entire demeanour is so different to the hatred Quinn can visibly see stewing in Shelby's body.

Quinn steps into the empty classroom and closes the door behind her. It's as far as she goes, her eyes focused on Shelby, who is still seated behind her desk and watching her as if she's something foreign.

Well.

"What do you want?" Quinn asks, her tone heavy.

Shelby shifts forward. "Stay away from my daughter."

Quinn doesn't react, even though she has that same urge to laugh and/or cry again. "Okay."

Shelby blinks. "Okay?" she questions. "Just like that?"

"Why not?" Quinn says with a slight shrug. "It matters very little what I want, or even what Rachel wants, so what's the point in fighting, right?"

Shelby shakes her head. "I didn't expect you to give in so easily."

"Oh, I'm sorry I'm not making this as fun for you as I possibly could," Quinn says, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

Shelby's jaw clenches. "And here I thought you loved her," she scoffs.

Quinn tilts her head to the side, rage building in her body. The _nerve_ of this woman. "I _do_ love her," she says, voice steady. "And this is how I prove it. Though, I don't expect it's something you would even understand, because you obviously don't know how to love her."

Shelby says nothing.

"Anything else?" Quinn asks. "Because I'm in a giving mood, and I would really like to get out of this godforsaken place before it actually kills me."

Shelby waits a beat, and then says, "She hates me, you know?"

Quinn's eyes narrow. "And you're actually surprised by that?"

"She just doesn't understand," Shelby continues. "This is for her own good. Her own protection."

Quinn can't help her laugh now. "Do you honestly believe that?" she asks. "Even you can't be delusional enough to believe Rachel is going to come around to your brand of… whatever this is. You're just condemning her to a life of misery, and I hope you'll be able to sleep at night with that knowledge."

Shelby shifts forward again. "I'll be able to sleep perfectly fine, thank you very much," she says, and there is something malicious in her gaze. "At least I'm saving my daughter from sin."

It takes everything Quinn has not to react, because that doesn't even _feel_ as if it's the argument that hangs in the air. It's just what Shelby is hiding behind, and Quinn's muscles tense with the urge to _do_ something, but her body remains perfectly still.

Shelby laughs, and it is something wicked. "Just stay away from my daughter, Miss Fabray. That's all I want."

Quinn nods, only once, and then she walks out of the classroom with her head held high. She feels dirty, though, as if she truly has made her own deal with the Devil.

Shelby's laughter echoes in her ears, and she suddenly understands exactly how and why that woman could brew hate in a heart as pure as Rachel's.

* * *

Quinn's graduation is sombre.

It's more painful than anything, because her parents are happy and proud and all those things that make her want to crawl into a little ball and forget the world actually exists. It feels fake and forced, and she knows this isn't the moment they envisioned for their precious daughter.

Because Quinn has missed out on Valedictorian, which she knows irks her father, but there is the really convenient excuse of _you know how the school is; she just missed too much school after the accident_ , and Quinn _hates_.

So much of it has bled into her heart and mind, and she wants nothing more than for this day to end.

This ceremony.

This moment.

God, everything.

Though, she supposes it's not the worst thing in the world not being Valedictorian. At least she doesn't have to stand up on that stage and give a speech, all while pretending everything is okay, when everything is decidedly not. It is the furthest thing from okay, and she wonders how her parents can look at her and _not_ see it.

How _Sarah_ can hug her after the ceremony and tell her, "I'm treating you to ice cream," with a smile on her face as if there isn't some kind of ticking time bomb on everything they all seem to hold so dear.

"I don't really feel like doing anything right now, Sarah," Quinn says, and her voice sounds exhausted to her own ears. Irritated, even, and a little harsh. Because Sarah _knows_ , and Quinn wants nothing more than to talk to her about all the shit going on in her life.

But she can't.

Because Sarah knows, and Quinn knows she knows, and there is something to be said about being disappointed in someone who doesn't even know they've done something wrong. Maybe Sarah thinks she's doing Quinn a service by not bringing it up, but it is having the opposite effect on Quinn.

Sarah's smile falters. "Are - are you sure?"

"I think I just want to go home," Quinn says, emotions warring within her. "Get some rest before Santana's graduation party tonight."

"Oh, do you want me to drive you?"

Quinn shakes her head, but manages to squeeze Sarah's hand without completely breaking down. "No, it's okay, Santana's going to pick me up later."

"Oh."

Quinn blinks. "But you can take me home now, if that's okay?"

Sarah brightens, and Quinn really wishes she could figure out just what is going through her sister's mind in this moment. She _knows_ how much Sarah loves their family; her comfort in it. Their parents treat her differently, and she's been showered with love and praise from the moment she was brought into the world.

The expectations placed on her are different to the ones placed on Quinn. Not lower, exactly; just different. There's also this innocence about her that Quinn has always envied, and, despite everything, she wants Sarah to be able to hold onto it. Maybe that's why _she_ hasn't brought up the whole Rachel thing, herself, because that will force a conversation Sarah perhaps isn't ready for.

Is Quinn?

The drive home is made in silence, save for the crackle of Top 40 on the radio. Quinn's brain is swimming with thoughts she probably shouldn't be having, and her head is throbbing as a result.

She's graduated.

She's on her way out of here.

Away from Rachel.

Away from her parents.

Away from _Sarah_.

That's the one that was always going to hurt, but Quinn feels as if she's suffocating from her desire for it. To be able to leave. To go somewhere far away and live without the knowledge she has the power - and Sarah, apparently - to tear apart their family right at the very fragile seams.

The burden is heavy.

Sarah glances at her a few times as she drives, and Quinn counts the seconds in her head before Sarah says something, anticipating the worst. All Sarah ends up saying is, "You don't look happy to have graduated."

Quinn breathes out slowly. "I'm just tired," she answers, which isn't necessarily a lie. "It's been a rough few weeks."

"It has," Sarah agrees.

"And, I am happy," Quinn says. "I - I can't wait to get out of here." She frowns at herself. "I think I've outgrown Lima."

"How do you mean?"

Quinn audibly swallows. "Do you - do you ever get the feeling that there are just places you don't belong?" she asks, wondering if she can try to have this conversation without mentioning the glaring elephant in the room.

Even her parents haven't commented on the fact Quinn was with _Rachel_ that night. She always wonders what they possibly know, but she suspects she would have been thrown out a long time ago if her parents _did_ know.

But, then again, her father is all about appearances, and it makes sense that he would put up with her until he can ship her off to Yale and not have to deal with her sin in his house.

Which, she knows would all change if the truth about that night were made public.

"And you think Lima is one of them?" Sarah asks, and, if her voice shakes with the sound of the question, Quinn doesn't comment.

Instead, Quinn asks, "Do you honestly think I belong here?"

Sarah remains quiet.

"Do you believe _you_ belong here?"

"It's our home," Sarah says. "It's our family. The way you're talking; it's almost as if you're willing to give it all up."

And the thing is that Quinn _is_ willing. She's always been, really. She had plans before Rachel, and she had plans after her. The ones _with_ her seem to be falling apart, and Quinn needs Sarah to know that it's not about _her_.

It's about Quinn.

"What if I had no choice?" Quinn asks quietly.

Sarah keeps her eyes trained forward when she says, "You always have a choice," and maybe Sarah has already made her own choice without Quinn even letting her.

* * *

"No drinking for you," Santana almost sings, which really just adds to Quinn's misery. "God, you look as sad as a wet puppy."

Quinn rolls onto her side and curls into a ball on Santana's bed. The graduation party Santana insists on throwing is still hours away, but Santana is already sipping on… champagne. Or, something like it, Quinn supposes.

They're supposed to be celebrating.

Quinn groans into Santana's pillow. "Please can you switch off the light," she says, and Santana drags herself to her feet to do just that, before settling on the bed beside Quinn, laying on her back.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Santana asks.

"I want to try one more time," Quinn says, her voice low. "If she rejects me again, then I - "

"Quinn."

"Look, it's just - I can't just - "

"Quinn."

"I think I'm going to come to New York with you and Britt," Quinn reveals.

Santana sucks in a breath. "Your father isn't going to like that."

"He'll get over it," she says. "He'll have Sarah. And, I mean, he can tell his friends and colleagues whatever the fuck he wants. I'm done, San. I'm just so fucking done."

Santana turns her head to look at her. "Have you truly thought this through?" she asks. "I mean, I'll support you either way, but, God, even I'm not ready to say goodbye to my family when I know it's coming."

"I don't think it's ever something you _can_ be ready for," Quinn points out. "I just - I'd rather it be on my own terms, you know? And, if I can get out of here without causing any more harm to the people I love, I know it's the right thing to do."

"So you're playing the martyr?"

"But nobody's going to know," Quinn says, risking a smile. "Ain't I a genius?"

Santana knocks her knuckles against Quinn's forehead. "Well, what do you know? The noggin' still works."

Quinn briefly flashes back to Rachel's face at her blasé comments about the attack, and she wonders if Santana has suffered in some way from what she witnessed that night. "Hey, San," she whispers.

Santana meets her gaze. "What's up, Blondie?"

"Just wanted to say thank you."

And, when Santana doesn't ask what for, Quinn knows she's doing them both a service.

* * *

 **Santana Lopez** is with **Quinn Fabray** and **Brittany S. Pierce**.  
 _We did it, Ladies and Bitches! We finally graduated! Time to get the fuck out of here! But, let's get drunk first_ 🍺

 **Quinn Fabray** _I shudder to think what your future employer is going to make of this post, San_.

 **Santana Lopez** _That's future Santana's problem, yo. Tonight, I'm letting loose, woohoo!_

 **Quinn Fabray** _Lord help us all_ 🙏

 **Santana Lopez** _Not-Little Fabray, there will be no religion in this house tonight. We gettin' dirty_ 🎉

* * *

On Rachel's last day of school as a sophomore, Ethan asks her, "Why are your eyes so red?"

Rachel doesn't even bother to look at Shelby from where she's just settled at the kitchen table for breakfast. "I didn't get much sleep," she explains, which isn't exactly a lie.

He gives her a curious look. "You should drink Chamo - Chamom - this special tea that Miss Cook drinks," he says. "She says it helps her sleep."

Rachel just about manages to smile at him. "I will remember that," she says. "Thank you, Ethan."

He beams at her, and maybe - just maybe - all of it will be worth it in the end.

* * *

Before Rachel leaves for school - because, she seems to have _earned_ her car back by agreeing to dating Finn - Shelby holds onto her arm and says, "Remember what we talked about."

Rachel can't even muster up the energy to glare at her when she replies, "Like I could ever forget the threats disguised as care."

* * *

There is a smoothie in Rachel's locker, left without a note, but that was probably, definitely, by design. From the colour, she knows it's a Berry Blaze, and she feels her eyes prick with tears.

This is the last thing she needs.

It's _exactly_ what she needs.

What she wants, above all else, is to be able to go and see Quinn. To touch her, just hold her, wherever she is, but Rachel knows, in her heart, _this_ isn't something Shelby will bluff about. Not now. Not when they're so close to the end, and they can both practically taste the summer.

Rachel doesn't think anything will ease up, really, but there's a part of her that's looking forward to not having to pretend everything is okay. She won't be seeing Quinn in the corridors. No Sarah, and no Finn, whom she knows she's just going to end up hurting.

It's all she's good at, apparently, and it's the reason she can't bring herself to drink the smoothie Quinn has so lovingly left for her.

* * *

On Quinn's last day as a high school student at William McKinley High School, she strolls into Sue Sylvester's office and makes a demand that's carefully disguised as a request.

Glee Club stays.

* * *

The news doesn't really impact Rachel when Mr Schuester delivers it to her, catching her in a corridor and wanting to give her some kind of parting gift for the year. In her head and heart, she knows the change has something to do with Quinn, and she doesn't know how she's supposed to feel about it.

"Next year," he tells her. "Next year, things will be better."

She wishes she could believe him.

* * *

She just doesn't expect things to get worse.

* * *

The day, itself, doesn't seem too out of the ordinary. Students are excited, obviously, because this is the end of the school year and the start of summer vacation, and Rachel envies them this. She wishes she could be excited about not having an excuse to leave the house.

Maybe she'll get a job.

That seems like a good idea.

Just to have something to do other than suffocate under her mother's disapproval, her stepfather's indifference, and the crushing realisation that she's told the only person who's truly been in her corner that they won't work.

They _can't_ work.

At least not _now_ , and she can only hope Quinn will understand. Maybe, years from now, they'll be in a better position to try again. When she's old enough and Shelby doesn't hold this power over a future Quinn deserves to be able to live.

Because, Rachel knows the power of a rumour. She knows the devastation Shelby could cause, just by making a single phone call - as a _worried mother_ \- and Rachel isn't willing to take the risk.

Quinn is getting out of here. She's getting as far away from here as she needs to, and this is something Rachel can give to her.

It's only fitting, seeing as she's already taken so much.

* * *

At lunch, there is another smoothie in her locker, and it takes everything Rachel has not to cry. Because she knows what Quinn is doing, and she should have expected it. Quinn has never been idle, and she's almost as stubborn as Rachel.

It's heartwarming that Quinn still believes they can figure things out _now_ , but Rachel knows she's just going to end up breaking both their hearts once more.

There still isn't a note, but there is a single flower, white in colour, and she stares at it for the longest time, trying to figure out its significance. Maybe that's something she can dedicate time to this summer: learning about flower symbolism.

Colour symbolism.

She could even do a deep-dive into Dreams. She'll probably have all the time in the world, given the fact she has no friends, no girlfriend, and a _boy_ who deserves much more than what Rachel is willing to offer him.

With a sigh, Rachel discards the smoothie but keeps the flower. She tucks it behind her right ear, mainly because it's pretty, but she wants Quinn to know how sorry she is, just by looking at her. If it isn't already written all over her face, it's in the presence of the flower.

Which, well, Rachel doesn't anticipate getting some kind of reaction from _Sarah_.

It catches her way off guard when, after the last bell has gone, Sarah catches her leaving the classroom and very pointedly asks, "Where did you get that?"

Rachel will wonder about this moment for years to come, just never having the courage to _ask_. "Get what?"

Sarah gestures at the side of Rachel's head, her expression unreadable. "That."

Rachel doesn't answer, because Sarah already knows.

"I thought - " Sarah starts, and then stops. "Why would - you're supposed to - "

"What?"

"It's supposed to be _over_ ," Sarah says.

Rachel almost laughs. "Is that what you want? To be able to sweep it all under the rug and forget anything ever happened between me and Quinn?"

Sarah's face twists, and Rachel wonders how she missed it.

"Does she even know how much you _hate_ who she is?" Rachel asks.

"I don't," Sarah insists.

"You can barely even look at me," Rachel accuses.

"Because you're ruining my family!" Sarah explodes. "Don't you see? Can't you see what this is going to do? It's all just - it's all going to be - "

And, Rachel thinks she would be sympathetic if Sarah's desire to hold onto her _perfect_ family wasn't coming from such a selfish place. She doesn't even seem to care about how Quinn has already suffered, or she doesn't realise that what she has isn't what Quinn has experienced.

It's sad, really, and Rachel suddenly feels sorry for Sarah, because Quinn _is_ stubborn and determined, so it's really only a matter of time before she enacts her plans, and then what will Sarah have to hold onto anymore?

Maybe Sarah sees something in her facial expression, because her entire demeanour shifts, and Rachel glimpses someone she barely even recognises.

"Stay away from my sister," Sarah says, a certain edge to her voice that's borne of a mild desperation. "Just, stay away from my family. For God's sake. Don't you think you've done enough?"

Rachel stares long and hard, searching Sarah's face for something.

Anything.

"You claim you want to protect her," Sarah says, and her voice is now harsh. "Then just stay away from her. Stay away from her, or I'll - "

And, this is the moment Rachel realises nothing will ever be the same again. Nothing will ever be right, because even Sarah wouldn't allow them to be happy.

Even _Sarah_.

Who Quinn has tried so hard to protect, from the moment she was born.

Who Quinn would allow herself to be miserable for, just to keep her.

Sarah.

"Do you want my parents to find out?" Sarah snaps. "Because they'll find out, they will." She pauses, looks stricken for a moment, and then says, "I'll tell them."

Rachel actually gasps, because those are the last words she ever expects Sarah to say, and her heart breaks all over again. " _Sarah_."

"I will," she declares, and she nods her head as she seems to convince herself of it further. "And then what, huh? Do you want that for her?"

Rachel sets her jaw and lifts her nose. "Of course I don't," she says. "Everything I've ever done has been to keep her secret. You and I both know you won't be the one to tell them. Quinn will never forgive you."

"Are you willing to call my bluff?"

And the thing is that Rachel isn't. She won't even play with that kind of chance. It's already got too out of hand, and now _Sarah_ is threatening to do the unthinkable. Does she hate Rachel that much? Does she hate _Quinn_?

"No," Rachel eventually says, deflating, because what use is fighting when they've all already lost? "I would never do anything to hurt Quinn, and, until right now, I thought the same thing about you."

Sarah flinches, but holds her ground.

Rachel sighs. "I was already staying away from her, Sarah," she says. "You don't have to worry about that. My mother got to me before you did, but I guess I'm relieved to know just where you stand when it comes to all of this." She sighs again, completely and utterly defeated. "It's a pity, really, because I'm the one who convinced Quinn you would be on our side when the time came. I guess I was wrong."

Then she turns around and walks out of the classroom, her hands shaking and her heart aching. Who would they have now? Santana and Brittany. Mr Schuester. Is that it? Don't they deserve more?

Does it even matter anymore?

* * *

Rachel doesn't expect to see Quinn again, possibly ever, but she's waiting in the Choir Room when Rachel goes to fetch a few of her belongings she left behind at the end of what has been the most trying day imaginable.

Well.

Maybe not, given the way her days have gone quite recently.

It's the end of things as they were; the end of things as they could have been. Just the sight of Quinn reminds Rachel of that, and she's momentarily frozen in place, wishing the world could just stop and allow them this moment.

But she's expected at home, and there's really not much more she can say to Quinn at this point. She's hurt her enough, really. There's evidence right in front of her to prove it.

Quinn gets to her feet when she spots Rachel, eyes dark and tired, and body tense. She looks exhausted, haggard in a way that makes Rachel want to reach out and hold onto her for dear life.

Rachel doesn't move.

"We can still work," Quinn says, smiling sadly. "I know we can."

Rachel shakes her head. "I know we can, too," she says. "But it's not up to us, anymore. It never was."

"I don't want it to be over," Quinn says. "We haven't had enough time. I had plans for us."

There is something so, so heavy in the air, and Rachel knows it's over. It's been over from before it even started.

"Sarah knows," Rachel says, her voice barely audible. "Sarah knows. She's known since the attack. I - I don't know how she found out, but she knows, Quinn, and I - she - "

"What?"

How exactly does Rachel tell Quinn her little sister is threatening to tell Quinn's parents about them, just to make sure Rachel stays away from Quinn? It would crush her, even though the logistics of it all ultimately wouldn't work in Sarah's favour.

It _is_ crushing her... because Quinn seems to figure it out herself, merely from the look of utter devastation on Rachel's face.

"Oh."

"I'm sorry," Rachel says. "Quinn, God, I am so sorry."

Quinn doesn't even say anything. It looks like she can't even think of the words to say, and that's even worse.

Rachel reaches for her; just wanting to touch, but Quinn steps back, her expression carefully blank.

"Quinn," Rachel says again.

"What does she want?"

"What?"

Quinn looks away. "What does she want from you?"

Rachel puffs out a breath. "She wants me to stay away from you."

Quinn closes her eyes, looking pained. "But you're already staying away from me," she points out.

"That's to protect you from my mother," Rachel says. "I never thought I would have to protect you from your sister, as well."

Quinn shakes her head, and then reopens her eyes. "I always knew it wasn't going to be easy, but I didn't think it would be this difficult."

Rachel doesn't even know what to say to her other than, "I'm so sorry."

Quinn sighs. "Me too."

What more is there left to say?

* * *

Quinn has already felt severely out of sorts for a few days now, and it gets worse when she steps onto the landing of their house and can hear Sarah moving around in her bedroom.

Her baby sister.

Quinn has been looking out for her since she was old enough to figure out it was something big sisters did. Since she was old enough to realise it was expected of her. Since she can remember.

Quinn loves her sister. There's nothing Sarah could do that would make Quinn not love her, but there's something about the way she's feeling right now that's toxic. Sarah knows, which is something Quinn has known for weeks now. But Sarah _knows_ , and she's confronted Rachel about it. She's threatening Rachel with Quinn's secret, and Quinn loves her. Of course she does.

But, God, she currently hates her.

Quinn stands there, almost frozen in place, as she contemplates what she's going to do. It would be the bullheaded thing to storm into Sarah's bedroom and demand an explanation, but Quinn's brain already hurts without adding the stress of that, as well.

So, she slips into her room instead, and texts Santana. Her head might hurt, but her heart is positively aching. Why is it so difficult just to be happy? All she wants is to be with Rachel. It's literally _all_ she wants.

She can barely bring herself to care about college or her family or whatever right now. Just Rachel, who is forcing herself not to love her, and it's so fucking ridiculous how their lives are currently playing out.

With a heavy sigh, she moves to lie on her bed. Normally, she would probably throw herself onto it, but she's become particularly aware of her body since the hospital.

She settles against her pillows and waits for a reply from Santana, toying with the idea of asking her to pick her up so she can spend the night away from her house and away from her problems.

Quinn hasn't felt this lost and confused since she was first diagnosed with diabetes. She knows the trauma of the attack has allowed a certain depression to seep into her life, and none of what's currently happening is helping. She can't even bring herself to enjoy the things that usually bring her joy.

What use is anything when that joy has an expiration date?

She must fall asleep, because the next thing she knows is that the light has faded in the day and there's a body lying beside her. She immediately knows it's Sarah, and she tenses at the realisation.

Because Sarah is someone who can hurt her.

Someone who is threatening to hurt her.

To hurt Rachel.

Just, to _hurt_.

Quinn has to get up. She has to get away from here; from Sarah. Where's her phone? Where's Santana? Why is any of this even happening?

She starts to move, but a hand sneaks out to hold her wrist, and Sarah says, "Where are you going?" in a sleepy voice.

Quinn tenses, almost without her say-so. "Bathroom," she forces out, and then gets to her feet and rushes out of the room.

She doesn't go to the bathroom.

Instead, she heads right down the stairs and out of the house, her hands shaking and her mind whirling. She doesn't even feel like herself, and all she wants is Rachel. Rachel grounds her, and Quinn wants her arms and her voice and her warmth. God.

She drops onto the front steps and tries to catch her breath. It's all too much. It's just too much. She closes her eyes tightly to try to calm herself, but it's not working.

Nothing is working.

She nearly jumps out of her skin when a hand lands on her shoulder, and she hits her head on the railing. Hard. "Mother fucker," she hisses, and now there are tears in her eyes and she still can't breathe.

"Quinn," Sarah says, and Quinn _reacts_.

She springs to her feet to get away, almost tripping over her own feet. "Don't touch me," she nearly shouts, her head pounding, heart racing.

"Quinn," Sarah says again, and Quinn screams.

 _Screams_.

She can barely see; barely even remain upright. Everything is spinning. Is she dizzy? She thinks she's dizzy. She thinks -

Quinn loses her balance and drops to the ground, landing on her knees and holding her head in her hands. She still can't breathe properly. What's happening? What is happening?

She doesn't even know how much time has passed, but there's a moment. Just a moment, when she feels a presence at her side and a warm hand on her back, and she knows.

She knows that hand; has held it in her own for hours; kissed it tenderly in the dark of night and traced the lines of its palm.

Quinn turns immediately, and Rachel is right there. She buries her face in the crook of Rachel's neck and holds on for dear life, everything slowing down all of a sudden.

Rachel smooths a hand over her back and sings softly in her ear.

Quinn focuses on the sound of her voice, the vibration in her neck and the steady movement of her chest.

"You're okay," Rachel murmurs. "You're okay."

"I don't - I don't know what's happening."

"I'm going to fix this," Rachel says. "We're going to figure it out. Everything is going to be okay. It'll all work itself out."

Quinn doesn't believe her.

"We'll run away together," Rachel whispers. "We'll go somewhere far, far away and be together. It'll be just you and me, taking on the world together; loving each other the way we both deserve."

They're just words, Quinn knows, but her breathing has steadied and her head has stopped throbbing.

"I love you," Rachel tells her, and Quinn believes at least that much. "I love you."

Quinn sighs, her body sagging against Rachel's.

Time fades to nothing, and Quinn never wants to let go.

But, Rachel eventually says, "Your parents are going to be home soon," and Quinn stiffens. "My mother has been calling. I need to go, but I need to know you're going to be okay."

Quinn holds her tighter, and Rachel breathes into her ear, a little amused.

"I don't know about you, but I really don't want to have to explain why we're clinging to each other on your front lawn."

Quinn sighs again, and then places a kiss against the skin of Rachel's neck. Once, twice, and then she initiates her release. Her body protests, but her mind is coming back to her. They haven't suffered through so much, just to give themselves away now.

"Don't make promises you can't keep," Quinn tells her.

Rachel smiles sadly at her, running a hand through her hair. "Not today," she says; "but one day."

"One day," Quinn echoes softly.

Rachel rests her hand against the back of Quinn's neck, noticing for the first time the crushed flower beneath their knees. Fitting. "This - what we're going through right now - is only temporary," Rachel tells her, and it's the only thing that tastes like some kind of truth on her tongue.

Quinn looks right into her eyes. "Promise?"

"I promise," Rachel says, and Quinn believes her.

* * *

Rachel believes her own words right until the moment she gets home, pulling into the driveway and seeing her mother's car parked where it definitely shouldn't be.

Of course.

Not only did Quinn have an actual, full-blown breakdown terrifying enough that Sarah called her in a panic, but now there's this. Rachel could do nothing more than rush over there, because there really was no choice in the matter.

And, now she's going to have to deal with whatever her mother has to say about goodness only knows what. Life is just -

Rachel doesn't even know what.

She parks the car, and then gathers herself to face some kind of inevitable. She can still feel the ghost of Quinn's lips on her neck; the remnants of her shaking body in her arms.

If it's the last time they see each other for a while, then maybe it was an almost fitting farewell. God, that's morbid.

Rachel climbs out of the car and makes her way to the front of the house. She's already thinking about how she's going to get through the rest of the day, week, year, possibly even life.

She nearly jumps out of her skin when the door opens before she can even fish for her keys, revealing her mother standing in the doorway. Her eyes are hard, and Rachel has the insane urge to turn right around and go anywhere but here.

"Uh, hello," Rachel says, frowning.

"Where have you been?"

Rachel sighs. "Saving a life," she says.

"Excuse me?"

Rachel groans. "Can I come inside?" she asks. "Or are we having this conversation out here, where all your precious neighbours could possibly hear just how much of a rainbow unicorn your only daughter actually is?"

"Keep your voice down," she snaps, pulling the door further open and gesturing Rachel inside.

Rachel almost doesn't step over the threshold, because she gets the feeling something is very, very wrong. Still, she does it, because she's always done what her mother says.

"Mom," Rachel says. "What are you even doing at home?"

"Where were you?" Shelby asks again.

Rachel closes the door behind her, which is more than suffocating. She just wants to go up to her bedroom and hide away, but there's something in her mother's entire demeanour that has her on edge.

It's just the two of them in the house, and Rachel has never felt so alone before. Shelby can barely look at her, and Rachel has never felt more insignificant in her entire life. Like dirt. _Nothing_.

But, it's the fact Shelby looks the way she does that makes Rachel step closer to her and peer at her face. There's something in her gaze. A kind of anguish that's hidden behind rage and hatred and sorrow and determination. She seems… pleased in a way, and Rachel feels her blood run cold at the sight.

"Mom," Rachel says, and she hates how young she suddenly sounds. "Mom, what did you do?"

Shelby lifts her nose, just slightly. "I did what I had to," she says.

"What did you do?"

Shelby stares at her. "What did _I_ do?" she accuses. "I told you never to see her again, or you'll both face the consequences, and what did you do? What is the _first thing_ you did? You went to see her. I don't even know why I'm surprised."

Rachel can't even breathe. Because she knows. She _knows_. "Mom," she says again. "What did you do?"

"This is all your fault, you know," Shelby says. "You left me no choice."

"Mom."

"If you'd just listened to me," Shelby says. "Why? Why wouldn't you just _listen_ to me? Why did you have to see her?"

Rachel feels stricken. "I had to say goodbye," she says. "You've sentenced us both to lives without each other. I had at least to explain to her why we can't be together. I had to tell her that my mother hates me, and it's just safer for all those involved if I remained unhappy for the rest of my days."

Shelby glares at her. "Well, it's already been done."

"What?"

Shelby turns away.

Rachel doesn't need her to say it anyway, because she knows. It was pointless to think Rachel could do anything that would keep Quinn safe from her mother.

She needs to warn her.

God.

She needs to do something.

In a panic, she reaches for her phone, ready to send something to a number she's forced herself not to use for weeks, now.

She's too late.

It's immediately apparent when she unlocks her phone to find two texts.

From Sarah.

 **Sarah** : _The police just came for Quinn_.

 **Sarah** : _Do you have any idea what you've done?_

Oh.


	13. Chapter 13

**XIII**

The aftermath is, well, awful.

Quinn suffers in a way nobody can quite predict. It doesn't even matter that they've done nothing wrong; broken no actual laws. It doesn't even matter that one look at their respective birthdays is enough to dismiss whatever claims Shelby has made about them… disguised as a worried mother.

Detective Garcia tells Rachel they have no choice but to investigate in a situation like this, but she also mentions that there are several people in her Department who would jump at the opportunity to make Russell Fabray _burn_.

So, yes, none of it even matters, and it takes Rachel promising she'll never engage in any kind of homosexual activity ever again to get Shelby to drop whatever claims she's made.

Claims that still derail Quinn's young, promising life.

Claims that see the truth of her sexuality becoming public knowledge to her family, school and community.

Claims that result in her father kicking her out, giving her barely any time to gather her things and leave.

Claims that see her dreams of Yale go up in smoke.

Claims that ruin everything.

Still, there's a part of Quinn that's prepared for all of it, and she makes her next moves in silence. She was always leaving, and Yale is not for her anymore, anyway.

She's going somewhere else.

Somewhere far away from this place, where she can finally be herself; where she can somehow recover from what she's come to term the year from Hell.

Well.

It sure gives her a lot to write about.

It's all just part of her story now, and she knows this chapter is over. It ended long before it even started, and she's known that for a while. It was always going to be disastrous. She just didn't think it would end up being _this_ horrific.

Still, it's all got her to this point in her life, and she's accepted it. She has the entire rest of her life to work on herself and find happiness.

All she knows is it's never going to be in Ohio.

Which is why, when the time comes, she gets in Brittany's car and leaves, vowing never to look back.

Never to return.

* * *

Sure.

* * *

The summer that follows is one of the worst of Rachel's life, and it has nothing to do with the fact they actually end up moving.

Again.

This time, they end up in Akron, and Rachel starts at Carmel High School at the same time Shelby takes up the position of show choir director.

Part of the deal is that Rachel will sing for her, and so Rachel does, throwing herself into school and music in a way that helps distract her from thinking about Quinn or Sarah or the New Directions or what could have been if -

She hears things, of course, about Lima, from random updates on social media. Some of it is disturbing, and some of it isn't.

Sarah is a cheerleader now, claiming a position vacated by her sister and running with it. Rachel hears from Kurt sometimes, and he tells her Sarah is somehow worse than Quinn and Santana combined. He claims the bullying has got so bad, particularly the homophobic kind, that he's considering moving schools.

Rachel hears that Tina is dating a football player named Mike, which makes her smile. She also hears that Mercedes is dating someone named Shane, also a football player, and she reckons they make a cute couple.

It's when she hears that Sarah is actually dating Biff that she feels sick to her stomach. The mere idea of it makes her nauseous, and she wonders just what's happened to the Fabray family since Rachel's arrival aided in derailing everything.

She doesn't think she's ever going to be able to forgive herself, the same way she'll never forgive her mother. Or Pete. Or her father. Or Sarah.

There's such hate in her heart, and she thinks it would fester and rot her insides if music didn't exist. It's the only thing that gets her through the days, offering a semblance of hope that she'll be able to get out of Ohio and away from all these ghosts; to build a life separate from her mother and her demands.

* * *

Kurt tells her that he's moved schools, after his life was threatened, and her heart hurts for him. It's not all bad, he claims, because there's a boy who's helping him in ways he didn't even know he needed. It's funny, now, that they're all going to be singing for different show choirs.

Well.

Only one can win in the end, and Rachel doesn't see any of them until Vocal Adrenaline meets New Directions at Nationals in New York City. She doesn't exactly expect a warm reception since she essentially defected, but Tina does give her a warm hug when Rachel manages to sneak away to greet them. Finn, as well, who she's managed to forget is really, really tall.

Mr Schuester does, as well, looking more relieved than anything. It's obvious he's been worried about her, and the monthly emails she's been able to send from an internet cafe she has to sneak to don't seem to have eased his anxiety.

"Are you happy?" he asks, managing to pull her aside.

There's a part of her that wants to tell him she doesn't think she'll ever be allowed to be happy - particularly if it's without Quinn - but she keeps her mouth shut. Instead, she smiles sadly and asks after Miss Pillsbury. It's enough of a distraction.

Their catchup is brief, and she leaves him with another hug, a promise to bring it on stage, and then heads back to the section dedicated for Vocal Adrenaline. Her mother raises her eyebrows at her arrival, but Rachel ignores her.

They have an understanding now.

It is what it is.

At least they have one thing in common: they both want to win.

Which is why it's not surprising when they do. It's something Rachel has dreamed of her entire life, but it feels so... disappointing. Her teammates are just that: her teammates. They're not her friends, and she doesn't feel as if she can share this achievement with them or anyone else.

Her fingers twitch with the need to text someone; to text Quinn. Someone hugs her, though she can't be sure who, and she allows herself to enjoy the moment.

Just for a moment.

 _Are you happy?_ Mr Schuester asked her.

The answer is simple.

No, she's not.

Not even a little bit.

* * *

Rachel wouldn't say her life gets any better after that, but it also doesn't get worse. She endured the first year in Akron, but now she's trying to _live_ the second one.

Akron isn't the worst place in the world, once she settles into it. Even her brothers seem to prefer it to Lima.

It helps that there isn't much to remind Rachel of Quinn except her memories. She can move around school and the town without getting caught in some kind of flashback to her teenage romance that ended in actual disaster.

Her senior year is spent with a keen focus on school and show choir and remotely helping Kurt navigate his way through his new relationship with Blaine. To appease her mother, she even dates a boy for a few weeks, but she hates every second of it, and the disgust at herself and guilt eat away at her until she breaks up with him.

She wonders how her mother can look at her and not see how miserable she is. How can she not care? How can Pete? How can her father?

The year goes slow and fast at the same time, and she has decisions to make. She's going to New York, she knows, and Shelby wants her at NYADA. Which is why she's leaning towards NYU's Tisch. It's out of spite, sure, but she thinks she'll enjoy the NYU experience a bit more.

Just, to be surrounded by people who aren't all interested in just the Arts. She thinks it'll be good for her. She needs the exposure. She needs some sense of freedom.

The terms of her agreement with her mother will still be in place, of course - Shelby has been reiterating that endlessly - but what her mother doesn't know and all that.

Not that Rachel thinks she could actually bring herself to be with another girl. Not with her mother just around the corner, ready to ruin all their lives. She couldn't create another Quinn, who she's forced herself to leave alone. She hasn't even gone looking, and she hasn't wondered.

Okay, of course, she's wondered.

She just hopes that Quinn, wherever she is, is happy. It's all she wants: a happy Quinn Fabray.

When Rachel gets her letters of acceptance, she tells only Kurt. He has plans to go to New York too, and he's debated endlessly over staying in Ohio for an extra year, so he and Blaine can take on the city together.

If Rachel were someone who hadn't already been forced apart from the person she loves, she thinks her response would be different. So, she encourages him to stay, telling him his career will always be there, but maybe Blaine won't always. It's sad and morbid, but she thinks he gets the message.

They meet again in Chicago this time, Rachel Berry going up against her old Club. It's different now. They don't hate her or even resent her. In fact, some are even happy to see her, and she gets hugs from the original members and introduced to some of the newer ones.

Mike is her favourite, by far. There's just something so unassuming about him, and she thinks Tina's found a good one.

Mr Schuester, of course, gets the tightest hug out of her. She asks after his apparent plans to propose, and he blushes like a man in love. It's almost inevitable he asks the question, and she's almost ready for it this time around.

"Are you happy?"

The answer is still no, but she does manage to say, "I'm going to New York for college," and he takes that as answer enough.

Rachel Berry wins the MVP Award, but New Directions take the coveted title, and Rachel finds that she's immensely happy for them. It's a little disappointing, of course, but she can't bring herself to be angry or sad about it.

Not like her mother.

Maybe that's why Rachel is so okay with it... because her mother isn't.

Anyway, Rachel doesn't graduate as a Nationals winner, but her hopes and dreams have already been shifted. She just wants to graduate and leave.

It's bittersweet when she does, hugging her brothers goodbye, even as they squirm in her hold. Things have never been simple and easy, and all Pete gets is a wave as Rachel leaves, Shelby insisting on accompanying her to her dorm.

Rachel picks her battles smartly these days, and this isn't one she's willing to fight. So, mother and daughter descend on New York once more, Shelby lecturing her the entire time about what needs not to happen if Rachel wants her tuition paid.

Rachel agrees, because she has no plans to pursue anyone, anyway.

Then Shelby leaves.

And, Rachel is alone in New York for the first time.

She's _alone_.

Which is really the moment she bursts into tears.

* * *

It's more difficult than she imagined, balancing school and studio time, trying to make a name for herself, hiding that 'side' of her life and figuring out if she actually wants to make friends.

Rachel's roommate is a free spirit, coming and going as she pleases and always trying to feed Rachel some kind of Mediterranean grain. Her name is Liz, and she's studying something to do with art. Her fingers are constantly covered in paint or charcoal, and her side of the room is littered with supplies.

Rachel just has piles of sheet music on her side.

The first weeks are terrifying. Her mother calls her every day, and those conversations consist of the same, boring questions: _are you eating well?_ , _have you been practicing?_ , _are you behaving?_ , and _is there something you need to tell me?_

Rachel's answers are always the same: _yes, yes, yes_ , and _no_. She's never telling her anything ever again.

Despite the newness of her life, there's a certain comfort to be found in the daily grind. She enjoys her classes - voice and dance and drama - doing her best to excel and be noticed.

It works.

One of her acting teachers suggests she audition for some of the upcoming productions after the new year. They have a selection of student playwrights who have written plays and musicals that are being workshopped, and Rachel would do well at least to try to put her name in the ring.

So she does.

She doesn't tell her mother about it, mainly because they don't talk about anything worth talking about. The auditions are supposed to be held over the first days of Winter Break, and Rachel uses classes as an excuse to stay in New York. She's more surprised her mother lets her, but then she remembers she's barely a member of the family, anyway, so what does it matter that she's not around?

She decides to remain in the musical theatre studio for her auditions, mainly because she's convinced her voice is her biggest asset. The acting and dance are somewhat secondary. Good, of course, but not as great as her singing.

She doesn't expect much, but she works through the process of auditioning for a crowd of writers and directors, who will talk and discuss whether she fits into any of their visions for their productions, accepting that the least she'll get is experience, and the most is a part in some chorus.

Well, that's what she thinks until she gets an email from someone named Tyler Diaz about a part in a musical that's been written by a junior playwright at the start of the new year. He claims he has the perfect part for her, and he would really love for her to read for him and his fellow show runners and producers.

She says yes, because why not? It's not as if she has anything better to do.

Tyler is not exactly what she's expecting. His email didn't really give much away, but she didn't expect him to be so intense or focused. She also meets the production manager, Dallas Cash, who is a fiery redhead who takes charge immediately, her voice dominating. There are other students involved, producers and composers, who are going to be sitting in on her audition as well, and she does her best not to feel overwhelmed.

"It's something of an impossible love story," Tyler explains once she's read lines of a monologue, sang a song of her choice and done a chemistry read with a boy named Jesse. Tyler looks slightly nervous about something, even if there's a hopeful glint in his eyes. "You're perfect for the part," he says, unable to look at her. "Seriously. It's almost as if it was written for you."

Rachel resists the urge to roll her eyes, but her heart is beating a little too fast, because, God, does this mean what she thinks it means?

Tyler breathes out. "I do have a bit of a confession, though, which may or may not be a dealbreaker for you."

Rachel gives him her full attention, wondering what it could be.

"I didn't mention this in my email, mainly because I wanted to see you for myself, but the love story is really between two girls," Tyler eventually confesses.

And, okay, Rachel surprises them all by laughing, loud and uncontrollably. It's just a short burst, but it's enough. It's more than enough. "Oh, Tyler," she says, shaking her head in amusement and already reaching out a hand. "Sign me up."

* * *

Rehearsals don't start immediately, given the second director/scriptwriter isn't yet back from her Winter Break, citing a family emergency. In the meantime, Rachel receives a complete script, which she spends an evening reading in its entirety, and then cries herself to sleep.

It's tragic, but beautiful and the love is magical and pure, and Rachel wishes with all her might that she and Quinn were given the chance for happiness. For success.

For love.

When she first realised she was gay, she read a lot of stories about other people's realisations, their coming outs and their eventual happily-ever-afters. Not all the stories were easy or happy, but rather shone a light on just how difficult it is to find and keep love, regardless of the gender chromosome of your partner.

This is one of those stories.

It's about love.

But it's about so much more, as well, and the character Rachel's going to be playing, Rae, is hitting far too close to home, and she's unsure if she's even going to have to do any _acting_ at all.

She works on learning her lines while she waits for any news on rehearsals. She spent a few days of her Winter Break exploring the city, revisiting places she spent so much of her time in as a child. She even went past their old apartments.

The one they lived in with her father is still there. She actually thinks he still owns it, but she wouldn't know. Part of the divorce and custody agreement was that he wasn't allowed to contact her until she was eighteen.

She's now nineteen, her birthday come and gone with little fanfare that she barely registered it beyond Kurt's phone call, a few _Facebook_ messages and a forced call from her family.

Rachel knows she can contact her father herself, but she's never really been able to get over the fact he was able to sign her away at all. She's suffered so much, and she really could have used a parent who _understood_ , but she's been going through life blind for far too many years.

Rachel didn't expect herself to miss Liz, and she surprises them both by hugging her when the girl returns from her Winter Break. Liz teases her about it, afterwards, and Rachel wonders if the success of her part has anything to do with the glimpse of life that seems to be sparking in her.

"What's got into you?" Liz asks as she unpacks her suitcase. "Did you get laid?"

Rachel flushes, because, God, that's -

"I'm guessing no," Liz says, laughing. "You look horrified by the idea. Sorry if that's too much or whatever. Maybe you're a virgin, I don't know."

Rachel licks her lips. "I'm not," she says. "I guess I just haven't thought about it in a while." Her face must do something because Liz stops what she's doing and looks at her.

"That bad, huh?" she asks, and Rachel frowns. "Or, that good, I guess?"

Rachel smiles softly. "Both, I suppose."

"Did he break your heart?"

Rachel shakes her head. "I broke hers."

Liz doesn't say anything for a moment. "How long ago was this?" she asks, and Rachel appreciates the fact she doesn't comment on what's just been revealed. "I think, as your roommate, I need to know how long it's been since you got lucky."

Rachel laughs softly. "No judging."

"Would I ever?"

Rachel rolls her eyes. "Three years."

Liz's eyes widen. "What!" she practically shrieks. " _Three_ years? Aren't you, like, twelve, or something?"

Rachel drops her gaze. "It's a complicated situation," she says, which is really the simplest way to explain it.

Liz moves to sit beside her on her bed. "Well," she says. "Are we looking to do anything to un-complicate it?" she asks.

"Not particularly," she confesses, and there's a part of her that's convinced she's never going to be able to recover from Quinn.

Not that she believes she actually _wants_ to.

"Well, when you are," Liz says, jumping to her feet; "I've always wanted to go to a gay bar."

Rachel just laughs, and almost says she's not gay, but then decides not to. Her mother won't ever know about this moment. "Oh, there's something I have to tell you."

"Wow, you're just full of confessions today, aren't you?"

Rachel ignores her. "I got a part."

"What?"

"In a musical," she says. "Remember those auditions I went for? Well, it turns out I caught someone's interest, and I'm now one of the leads in an actual musical production."

Liz stares at her for a moment. "Is this a big deal? Because I feel as if this is a big deal, and you should maybe be more excited about."

Rachel grins at her. "It's a big deal."

Liz squeals. "We should celebrate!"

Rachel fights her, of course, but they do go out for pizza and milkshakes, and Rachel thinks maybe there _is_ some new life in her. Purpose. Maybe this is what Quinn would have wanted for her as well.

Some semblance of life.

Of something like happiness.

* * *

It bleeds into her bones slowly and, by the time she receives the rehearsal schedule from Tyler, she feels more settled in her skin than she has in years. They have a full cast and crew meeting on the last Sunday before classes resume, and Rachel doesn't really think about how many people that is until she arrives at the auditorium booked out for their rehearsals.

Well.

There are close to one hundred people in attendance, and she barely knows any of them. Just Tyler, Dallas and Jesse, who she spots through the masses. With her bag slung over her shoulder, she makes her way through the gathered students towards the front.

Tyler spots her eventually and grabs her arm. "There you are," he says, smiling despite the focus in his eyes. "You'll have to meet Sophia, who's going to be playing Alice, and Q is finally here, so we've got a full cast and crew."

Rachel blinks, a niggling feeling scratching at the back of her mind.

"But, we'll get to that," Tyler says, dragging her to the third row where a handful of people are sitting. "This is Hannah," he says. "She's one of our composers, and you'll be working with her and Silas, who's somewhere around here, on the songs. Hannah, this is Rachel, our Rae."

Rachel manages to smile through how overwhelmed she suddenly feels. "Hello."

Hannah returns her smile, and then pats the seat beside her. "Sit," she says. "Tyler, leave the poor girl alone."

Tyler frowns. "I'm not doing anything."

"You're just nervous Q isn't going to like who you've cast," Hannah says knowingly. "She already told you she trusted you to find her Rae, so would you just calm down?"

Tyler smiles, a little sheepish. "Whatever."

Hannah looks at Rachel, and Rachel immediately takes the previously offered seat, even as Tyler grumbles something, and then walks away. "Sorry about him," Hannah says. "They're really all going to be basket cases for the duration of the production, so I would just get used to it."

Rachel nods, her eyes a little wide.

"Is this your first production?"

Rachel nods again. "I'm a freshman."

Hannah lets out a low whistle, absently tucking a lock of dark blonde hair behind her ear. "No wonder Ty's been so hush hush about who he cast in the role."

"What do you mean?"

"The scriptwriter, right, she's been away," Hannah explains; "and she left Ty in charge of finding her Rae. I don't know about you, but I don't know how I would react if my prized play was going to be led by an inexperienced freshman." She pauses. "No offence."

Rachel blinks. "None taken," she says, and she means it. "Do you think I could get axed before I even start?"

Hannah shrugs. "She might make you audition again," she offers, wincing. "She's very passionate about this piece." Something happens to Hannah's face then. It looks a little pained for some reason, but she recovers quickly, and her smile is back. "I wouldn't worry too much, though," she says. "Tyler obviously picked you for a reason, and I caught a glimpse of the video of your audition. You have a wonderful range."

Rachel smiles in gratitude. She doesn't feel any more settled, exactly, but she's not as overwhelmed. She wants to know more, but Tyler is suddenly walking onto the stage in front of them, and the room falls to an immediate hush, people taking their seats.

"Hello, everyone," Tyler starts. "Welcome to the very first rehearsal for 'Said Too Much.'"

He gets a loud cheer out of them, and Rachel finds herself smiling.

"For those of you who don't know, I'm Ty, one of the directors. The redhead handing out the schedules is Cash, our very important production manager. But, really, the person you're all going to want to suck up to is that lady, Q, over there." He points to someone sitting in the front row ahead of them, and a pale hand lifts itself up in silent acknowledgment.

Tyler rolls his eyes at the display. "I'm sure you'll hear from her later," he says. "Now, though, we're going to break up into our various groups, to get to know each other, as it were. We have some cast and crew events planned to build rapport, and we're also having our first full script read-through on Wednesday."

He goes on to talk about a few other things, but Rachel finds her attention drifting to the head of hair belonging to the scriptwriter. It's short, just above shoulder-length, and shockingly pink. Bright in that way that could hurt someone's eyes if you look at it too long.

"It's terrible, isn't it?" Hannah whispers to her, catching her looking.

"Hmm?"

"The colour," Hannah says thoughtfully. "I miss the blonde."

Rachel blinks, unsure what's happening. There's really something about that neck that seems familiar, and she's frowning by the time Jesse appears at her side, other people already moving all around her.

"Hey," he says. "You ready?"

"What?"

"They want the main cast to meet on the stage," he says, looking a little confused. "You _are_ playing Rae, aren't you?"

Rachel blinks, and comes back to herself. "Oh, yes," she says, getting to her feet. "And you're playing Jonathan, right?"

He nods. "We should head up."

Rachel looks at Hannah, who's writing something in a notebook. "It was nice to meet you," she says, catching her attention. "I guess I'll see you around."

Hannah smiles at her, warm and kind. "Definitely," she says. "Good luck up there."

Rachel reasons she's going to need it, following Jesse as he leads the way onto the stage. It feels monumental, taking those first steps, and she knows, without a doubt, this is what she wants to be doing for the rest of her life.

The main cast isn't overly large. Ten people in total. Added to that, Tyler, Cash and Pink-Hair, there are only thirteen people on stage.

Which is why it's borderline ridiculous that it takes them as long as it does to see each other.

"Okay," Tyler suddenly says, catching their collective attention, and Rachel looks up just as Pink-Hair does, and -

Well.

Rachel would know those hazel eyes just about anywhere.

She freezes.

(Or unfreezes, because many would say she's been in a frozen state for some years now.)

Quinn.

Quinn is Pink-Hair.

Quinn is standing right in front of her, eyes wide and mouth hanging comically open.

Quinn is looking at her as if she's seen a ghost, and she's sure she looks the same way.

 _Quinn_.

Quinn, who almost chokes when she asks, " _Y-you're_ playing Rae?"

Rachel doesn't even have the chance to respond when Tyler is suddenly speaking.

"Look, Quinn, I know she's young, but you have to hear - "

Quinn raises a hand, silencing him. "Tyler," she says, her tone of voice dangerous in that way only people who know her well can recognise as the HBIC. "May I have a word."

It's not a question, and Tyler shoots Rachel an apologetic look as he follows after where Quinn has disappeared to.

Rachel stands, completely still, as the rest of the cast looks at her, questioning and sympathetic.

Jesse pats her shoulder. "I'm sure it's nothing," he offers, but Rachel knows, without a doubt, there is absolutely no way she can be in this musical now. God. There is no way.

Absolutely no way.

This - this is just - _fuck_.

Rachel starts walking before she can stop herself, heading in the direction Quinn and Tyler went. She hears them before she sees them, and Quinn sounds panicked in a way Rachel has never heard her.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she hisses. "Jesus, fuck, Ty, you should have told me the person you cast as Rae is _Rachel Berry_."

Tyler sputters, predictably. "I don't understand why you're so caught up on this?" he asks. "She's good, Quinn, I swear she is."

"I don't doubt that for a second," she says. "But, fuck. Just, fuck."

"Quinn, I don't understand," he says, and he sounds seriously perplexed. "I thought it wouldn't matter that she's a freshman. I mean, I did ask around, and her teachers have only good things to say about her work ethic. She's the perfect Rae."

"I know," Quinn says, and she sounds so defeated. "I know she is, Ty."

There's just silence, and Rachel stands, waiting.

"Can you give me a minute?" she asks.

"Of course, Quinn," he says. "We'll be on stage whenever you're ready."

Rachel tries to move out of the way when he emerges from the wings, wanting to remain out of sight, but he ends up spotting her. His smile is a little sad, and she wants to say something to reassure him. Quinn's reaction has nothing to do with him.

"Don't worry," he says. "She'll come around."

Rachel doesn't believe that for a second, but she doesn't say so. He looks miserable enough. "Of course," she says instead, and then watches as he continues on his way.

Rachel waits until he's out of sight, sucks in a breath and then heads in Quinn's direction. A formal resignation might be needed. Only, she freezes when she hears Quinn hiss, "Why didn't you tell me Rachel is at NYU?"

Rachel peeks around the curtain to see Quinn speaking into her phone, a scowl on her face. God. It's Quinn. She's right there.

"Well, she is," Quinn says hotly. "How could you not know? What do you mean how do I know? I just saw her, Sarah. She's here, and she's in my fucking production. Are you laughing? You aren't seriously laughing. I don't care about fate. This is the last thing I need! I don't know how I'm supposed to do this. Fuck. Just, fuck."

Rachel echoes her sentiments, of course, but she's suitably thrown by the fact Quinn is talking to Sarah.

That's... new.

"You're actually the worst," Quinn says into the phone. "I don't know why I put up with you. Whatever. Go blow up something or whatever. Bye."

Rachel waits a beat before she shows herself, and Quinn startles at the sight of her. They kind of just stare at each other, and Rachel can't stop herself from thinking this is one of those moments that holds the kind of power to be life-defining.

Which is why she'll forever kick herself for the first thing her stupid mouth decides to say.

"That was Sarah," is the thing that comes out, which might be the wrong thing based on the way Quinn's eyes narrow.

"Not that it's any of your business, but yes, it was," she says, her tone ice cold. Guarded.

"You still talk to her?"

Quinn's gaze sharpens. "Why wouldn't I?"

"After everything - " she starts, only for Quinn to interrupt, her tone icy now.

"You still talk to your mother, don't you?"

Rachel flinches.

"At least Sarah apologised," Quinn mutters, and then looks away, as if she hates the way she's reacting. She closes her eyes, and Rachel just watches her.

God.

She's missed her so much.

Quinn looks different, but the same. It's not even just the hair. It's just _her_ ; the way she carries herself. She stands taller, surer. She's exactly who she is, no apologies, and Rachel is glad for at least that.

"Look," Quinn starts, but can't seem to finish whatever she wants to say. "I - we - the - "

"We don't have to do this," Rachel says, forcing out the words. "I'm sure you can find someone else."

Quinn blinks, and then opens her mouth to reply, only for another voice to sound, and Rachel sees Hannah striding past her towards Quinn.

"Why is Ty coming to find me to get me to talk you down?" she asks.

Quinn keeps her eyes on Rachel for a beat more, and then looks at Hannah. "Ask him," she says. "I'm fine."

Hannah glances over her shoulder at Rachel, and then looks at Quinn again. "Please don't tell me you're freaking out because she's a freshman," she says, so obliviously. "You have to know she's good if Ty cast her. I watched a video of her audition, Quinn. Stop freaking out."

"I'm not freaking out," she says stubbornly, and Rachel wouldn't have to know her to know that's a blatant lie. Her ears are as pink as her hair. "I'm fine."

"Liar," Hannah says, and there's affection in her voice.

It's like a car wreck just waiting to happen.

There's nothing really untoward about the way Hannah's left hand curls around Quinn's elbow, but Rachel still feels as if she's just been gutted when the realisation hits. Her eyes widen just slightly, and she can't help the sudden jolt of betrayal she feels in her bones.

It's ridiculous, she knows. It's been almost three years since they were even properly together, and of course she never expected Quinn not to find anyone, but, God, it fucking hurts.

Rachel blinks.

Quinn looks slightly apologetic for only a moment, before her expression shifts to casual indifference with a hint of defiance, as if she's daring Rachel to feel anything about it.

Rachel looks away, unable to stomach the sight of someone else even touching Quinn. In the time they've been apart, the idea has crossed her mind that Quinn could find happiness with someone else - she could convince herself it was something she wanted for her - but it's something else entirely to _see_ it.

"There's no time to find someone new," Hannah says, as if Rachel isn't standing right there.

"We're not," Quinn says, her voice oddly detached. "We're not recasting." She clears her throat and looks Rachel in the eye for the first time since Rachel promised her everything was going to work out in the end. "We're not recasting you," she says. "You better be as good as they all say you are."

Rachel swallows nervously at the glint in Quinn's eye.

"I hear acting is your specialty," Quinn adds a moment later, and, okay, maybe Rachel deserves that.

* * *

Rachel doesn't mean for Liz to find her as such a mess, but it can't be helped.

Quinn.

Rachel can't be expected to see Quinn for the first time in forever and come out unscathed. She's _scathed_. Terribly so. She can't even recall how she made it through that first rehearsal, and she won't even be able to explain how she made it back to her room.

Just, she did, and now she's curled up in her bed, shaking from sobs she's forcing herself not to let out. God, it hurts. It still hurts. It was always going to hurt seeing her again, but it's worse. It's worse in so many ways, because Quinn hates her. Quinn would probably want nothing to do with her if they weren't now basically being forced to work together.

And, Quinn has a person.

Rachel didn't expect the truth of that to ache as much as it does, but it does. It slices so deeply, and she hates that Quinn can still do this to her. How dare she? How can Rachel let her?

So, she's a right mess when Liz gets back, and it takes almost an hour to get any coherent sentences out of her. It doesn't make a lot of sense, but Liz gets the gist of it at some point.

"Your ex," she surmises; "is here?"

Rachel nods, wiping at her dry cheeks.

"Your play," she goes on; "it's hers?"

Rachel nods again.

"Well, fuck."

Exactly.

* * *

Liz gets her boyfriend, Ross, to bring them a bottle of tequila, and Rachel gets drunk and cries and cries.

In the morning, she rolls herself out of bed despite her hangover and drags herself to classes. If she looks a sight, nobody mentions it and, when she gets back to her room, she sleeps until the next morning.

By the time Wednesday arrives, she's a little more settled.

Well, she's convinced she is right until the moment she sees Quinn again. Only speaking parts are in attendance of the full table-read, which is only sixteen actors and actresses, with Ty and Cash planning on alternating through the stage directions.

Rachel's eyes find Quinn the second she steps onto the stage, where a handful of tables have been arranged into a large U, several free-standing boards in front of them. It's almost a classroom's setup, and Rachel forces away her Pavlovian reaction.

Jesse spots her immediately, and waves her over to where he's sitting with Sophia, already in their assigned seats. "I was just telling Soph that I totally cried when I first read the script."

"So did I," Sophia ends up saying.

"I think you'd have to be made of some strong stuff not to," Rachel comments, which is the truth.

Jesse smiles at her. "I'm relieved you're still here," he says. "A bunch of us were convinced Q would boot you."

Rachel shrugs. "I guess we'll see how long it lasts."

Sophia pats her shoulder. "I know you got to witness the Head Bitch, but she's really a puppy," she explains with a soft smile.

Rachel suddenly burns with unexplainable jealousy at the idea that this strange girl knows Quinn; that any of these people have been able to spend time with her in the missing years. "Have you known her long?"

"We shared a few classes freshman year," Sophia says. "I even asked her out once, but she turned me down." She laughs a little, rolling her eyes. "Now, she's this über cool, hotshot writer, and we're all just pawns in her world."

Jesse laughs. "I think everyone in this room has asked her out at least once," he says. "She totally told me I reminded her of her ex when I tried."

Sophia shakes her head, visibly amused. "She told me she liked me too much to date me," she says. "What a fucking weirdo."

Rachel listens almost desperately, because these are all things she's missed about Quinn. Almost three years of memories and stories and anecdotes. Quinn.

Her eyes drift almost automatically, and she sees Quinn sitting with and talking to Cash, the two of them bent over some papers, their expressions serious.

Quinn's hair is tied into a tiny little ponytail, wisps falling all over her face, and she's wearing glasses. They're a new pair, similar to her _Wayfarer_ sunglasses, and Rachel can't stop herself from staring.

Quinn must feel her gaze, because she lifts her head quite suddenly, eyes landing on her immediately. Rachel doesn't look away, and Quinn holds her gaze for a long, long moment, face carefully blank.

Rachel wishes she could say something that would make the ache in her gut lessen. She wishes _Quinn_ would say something, but she just knows Quinn won't be speaking to her unless she absolutely has to.

It's the sound of Tyler's voice that breaks their stare, and Rachel looks towards him first, suddenly grateful for the reprieve. Her heart is pounding. She's never going to survive this.

"Everyone, please take your seats," Tyler instructs, smiling. "My intention isn't to keep you here long, but Q assures me these things go longer than we initially anticipate, so she promised us pizza."

Quinn rolls her eyes at the small cheer, but she doesn't dispute his words.

"We're going to go through the entire play tonight," he says. "Just a read-through to get everyone familiar with the story. We have some character bios we'll also be handing out, and Q put together some set and costume mockups for us to see on those boards, so there's that to look forward to."

Rachel looks at Quinn, feeling immensely proud of her.

"Let's get started, shall we?"

Rachel is nervous, obviously, and she's just relieved she doesn't appear in the first scene. That's all Sophia, which Rachel has now come to realise is Quinn, in their story.

Wow.

Okay.

Quinn did end up writing about them, and ended up giving them a better ending than Rachel could have imagined.

Rae makes her appearance in Scene Two, and Rachel forces her voice to remain steady. She's saying words she's said before; making promises she's made before.

She told Quinn, once, that she too would do everything she could to protect their secret, and she failed. Ultimately. And Quinn paid the price for it.

Though, at first view, she doesn't seem to be doing all that terribly, all things considered. But Rachel won't accept any of it has been easy for Quinn. Just as it's been horrific for Rachel, she's sure it's been worse for Quinn.

And, yet, somehow, they both ended up here, in this play, about to tell this story.

Cash is the one who calls a break to proceedings, and Quinn says she's already ordered their pizzas that should be arriving soon.

Rachel leans over to Jesse and asks, "Do you think she ordered anything vegan?"

His eyebrows shoot up, and then he hollers, "Yo, Q," which gets more than just Quinn's attention. "Did you get any vegan pizzas? Rachel's apparently a nutcase."

Rachel swats his arm, blushing furiously.

Quinn looks at her, her eyes a little wide. "Uh, yeah, actually, I did," she answers. "Dom and Greg are also vegans."

Jesse grins at her, adding a thumbs-up for good measure.

Rachel can barely look at anyone right now, and she doesn't lift her head again until the pizzas arrive and Jesse coaxes her to her feet to get some slices and something to drink.

Rachel meets Dom and Greg then, both of them looking incredibly amused when Rachel seeks out the two vegan pizzas Quinn made sure to order.

"So, you're a vegan?" Dom asks. "Been long?"

"Since junior year of high school," she informs them. Hah. She's a lesbian and a vegan. Both things that drive her mother to drink.

Dom laughs softly, her eyes twinkling. "So, last week, huh?"

Rachel appreciates the fact they can joke about her youth, because she's easily the youngest person in the cast. "I haven't grown much," she says with a shrug.

Greg laughs, loud, and Rachel feels _those_ eyes turn to her. God, she would know the feeling of that gaze on her anywhere. It lingers a while, and she's already back with Jesse and Sophia when the feeling fades.

She doesn't think she can do this.

She's going to have to.

While the rest of them eat, Quinn goes through the drawings she's done of both the sets and costumes she's envisioned for the production, and Rachel very nearly bursts out laughing at the sight of the first Argyle sweater.

Wow.

If only these people knew.

Quinn dutifully avoids looking in Rachel's direction when she reveals those details, which is doubly amusing, and Rachel smiles behind a slice of pizza.

The sets are both simple and intricate, with Quinn wanting their living spaces to tell a story beyond the dialogue and the music. The way she gets when she talks about her work and her vision... well, it makes sense why so many people have asked her out.

As far as Rachel knows, she's the only one in the room who's actually been asked out by Quinn, instead. Hah.

It's nothing to write home about, obviously, but she maintains a sense of pride about it, even if nobody will ever know. How can they, when so much of their relationship occurred behind closed doors?

Eventually, they get back to the script, and the climax of the story rushes at them. Rachel ends up a little breathless as she reveals feelings for a character that she knows is based rather closely on Quinn, and her heart aches with the truth of it all.

_Whether you're alive or not, nobody will ever hold a candle to you. I'm yours forever, didn't you know?_

_Are you promising to love me for eternity?_

_Haven't I already?_

_No matter what happens, right now and in the future, I want you to know that I'm always going to love you._

She's definitely not the only one who's a little teary when Cash reads the final Curtains, and it takes them an abnormally long time to recover.

Tyler calls an end to proceedings and hands out bios and their upcoming rehearsal schedules. "If something doesn't work for you, please let us know," he says. "We've created several chat groups, so make use of those as well. Communication is very important to getting through the next few months as seamlessly as possible."

Then he dismisses them, and Rachel takes her time packing away her things. She's in no actual rush to get back to her dorm, even if she knows she probably needs the extra hours of sleep to deal with all the emotional turmoil she's put her body through.

She's just got to her feet and lifted her bag when a body appears in front of her, and her traitorous heart jumps at the sight of Quinn Fabray this up close.

"So, you're now a vegan," Quinn says, looking only slightly amused. She appears more uncomfortable than anything.

Rachel nods. "Thought I would finally take the plunge."

Quinn looks at her, long and hard, as if she's studying every detail of a face that's grown in the time they've been apart. "You did well tonight," she finally says. "It's... a little weird, hearing your voice... say those things." _Again_.

"It's a lot weirder actually saying them," Rachel says, and she almost smiles.

Quinn swallows, and then licks her lips. "Look, I'm sorry about the way I acted on Sunday," she says. "I - I was completely caught off guard, and totally out of line."

Rachel raises her eyebrows. "Did Hannah make you say that?"

Quinn sputters for a moment, and then says a flat, "yes," like a scolded child. "She's nicer than I am, and you're just on a long list of people I have to apologise to since I returned from Break."

"Long, huh?"

"Apparently, I've been prickly."

"You're always prickly," Rachel says, and she really wishes she hadn't. It sounds too familiar; too involved, and she wants to take it back.

Quinn clears her throat. "So, I'm sorry, and I really am looking forward to working with you."

And, frankly, the weirdest thing is that Quinn sounds as if she actually means it.

* * *

When rehearsals really begin, Rachel finds herself plunged into an exhausting routine. On top of classes and studio time and homework, she has full cast rehearsals on Sundays, with Tuesdays and Thursdays only speaking cast, solo/duet singing on Mondays, and ensemble singing on Wednesdays.

Exhausting.

Rachel has two solos in the production, two duets - one with Sophia and one with Jesse - and then five total verses and various choruses in the ensemble songs.

Did she mention exhausting?

Rachel makes it through the first week relatively unscathed, careful to avoid Quinn as much as possible by directing any of her questions to Tyler or Cash.

It's during her second Monday solo rehearsal on a song called 'Home Is Where You Are' that Rachel is alone with Hannah for the first time. She's nervous for reasons beyond how taxing on her voice the song actually is.

She doesn't know if Quinn has mentioned to Hannah who Rachel is, but that question is answered pretty simply when Hannah says, "You survived your first week," with a wave of her hands and a bright smile. "They weren't too mean, were they? I made sure Quinn was on her best behaviour." There's a very significant and telling flush to her cheeks at the sound of those words, and Rachel wants to walk right back out of the room.

"They've been very good," Rachel finally says. "Kind and welcoming."

"Good."

Rachel isn't sure she wants to like Hannah, but she makes it difficult not to. There's just this warmth to her that seems out of place in a world where both Quinn and Rachel actually exist. Maybe that's why Quinn was so drawn to her.

 _Is_ drawn to her.

Is with her, in all the ways she once was with Rachel.

Hannah also has a wonderful ear for music. She says, "Quinn wrote the lyrics, and Silas and I composed the music." She smiles softly. "I wasn't sure getting involved with her project was a good idea when I had this massive crush on her, but apparently music is the way to her heart."

Rachel wonders how she's supposed to get through life without crying again. Seriously. There's no way to escape it, now. This is what her life has been reduced to. It's cruel and unusual punishment.

Still, somehow, Rachel manages to juggle it all. She sleeps a lot more, her body usually passing out just after ten o'clock, whether she wants it to or not.

They're both the best and worst weeks of her life.

Which really means that things are never going to stay easy.

As if Rachel would even want them to.


	14. Chapter 14

**XIV**

Rachel quickly learns that there is a particular difference between the cast at rehearsals and the cast messing about during one of Cash's planned outings.

Outings.

She organises for a barbecue in Central Park, and then a day on Staten Island, and Rachel hates how much she appreciates Hannah doesn't make it to either of these things. The less time Rachel has to witness she and Quinn actually be together; the better.

It's not really something she's allowing herself to wrap her head around. Out of sight, out of mind, and all that. It's just a thing that maybe exists.

Quinn is, however, _very_ present. She moves through the gathered cast and crew as if she knows every single one. Which she obviously does, easily saying their names and asking after dogs and partners and even Anna's sickly grandmother.

She stays as far away from Rachel as possible.

It would be amusing if it weren't so sad, but they're eventually forced to work in close proximity when Tyler mentions that Rachel, Sophia and Jesse have an almost masterclass about the way it's all going to be playing out on stage.

A masterclass with him, sure, but also with Quinn.

Quinn.

Rachel watches as Tyler and Quinn chat about something as they walk ahead towards a back room they've chosen for whatever masterclass they have planned. Rachel is nervous, obviously, because she's paranoid she's going to be the one to give them away, when it's been left unspoken between her and Quinn that nobody is to know about their past relationship.

Which is why it's a surprise to Rachel when Quinn stops her before she enters the room and says, "This is my work."

Rachel stares at her, perplexed and a little caught off guard at how close Quinn is standing to her. "Excuse me?"

"Whatever I say or do is part of my job," Quinn says. "You have to remember that."

Rachel doesn't really get what she means until Quinn is standing in front of them and saying, "The absolute last thing Alice wants to do is to give in to Rae," because, okay, nothing could have prepared Rachel for hearing that.

Rachel actually flinches, and then doesn't look at Quinn throughout the entire session. The five of them talk rather extensively about the characters themselves, but they don't have much time for discussing the relationships beyond their initial meetings.

Quinn spends extra time with Sophia, because it's obvious Alice is Quinn in this story, and she's the best person to help there.

Rachel doesn't really need help getting into character, she thinks, because she already knows all she needs to be a Rae who is falling in love with a Alice.

Because, right now, Rachel is a Rachel who is still in love with a very particular Quinn, and desperately trying to fight it.

It's a hopeless case.

Rachel made a promise years ago, and she's not sure she'll be able to move on from all of this without making sure to keep it. Which presents an even bigger problem, because how on Earth is she supposed to keep that kind of promise when that promise was made before everything about their worlds fell to shit?

Rachel drops her head into her hands for a moment, feeling a headache forming.

Jesse touches her shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Rachel nods, sighing. "Just thinking."

"About how Rae totally screws over Jonathan?"

Rachel rolls her eyes. "I don't get what his problem is, really," she says. "It's not as if Rae didn't repeatedly make it clear to him she wasn't interested."

Jesse laughs. "But everyone is telling her he's the one," he says. "That's maybe the beauty of the musical, isn't it? The love story everyone believes is happening between her and Jonathan is what everyone sees, but the real love story is the one hidden behind the scenes where Rae and Alice are falling in love right in plain sight. It's kind of beautiful."

"Only because it all works out," Rachel mutters under her breath.

"Excuse me?"

Rachel sighs, and then glances at Quinn, who risks a look her way when she feels eyes on her. "Nothing," she says, and then gets to her feet. "I need to get out of here."

"Got a hot date?" Jesse asks.

Rachel laughs, loud and sudden, which draws every set of eyes her way. She feels hot under Quinn's gaze, but she's trying not to think too hard about it.

Jesse just raises his eyebrows.

She doesn't bother replying.

* * *

Cash claims it's best to get the songs all prepared before they introduce choreography, but Rachel's final solo is a tricky piece that requires ridiculous amounts of practice and constant work that Cash has to make an exception.

The other songs are easier, with less octave changes and fewer words and emotion.

So, she declares that choreography for the music numbers begins, which is really the moment Rachel Berry comes face-to-face with Brittany Pierce for the first time in almost three years.

Brittany's eyes practically light up at the sight of Rachel, and she skips over to wrap her in a hug that surprises both Rachel and Jesse, who is accompanying her for this session. They're working on a routine for their duet, 'Tell Me I Am Yours.'

Britt kisses her cheek, and then swats her shoulder rather painfully, before she moves on to hug Jesse, though considerably less enthusiastically.

Apparently, Brittany has been studying Dance at NYU with Quinn since high school, and Santana is also here with them, working at Pre-Law. Isn't that a terrifying thought? Rachel does her best to keep her facial expression neutral, but there's a certain sense of nostalgia that's settling into her bones that she can't quite keep at bay.

She could have been part of this.

If things had been able to be as they should, all of this wouldn't be _news_ to her. She would already know that Brittany convinced Santana to get a kitten or that Santana and Brittany live together in the same apartment building as Quinn, who, apparently, likes to joke that she wouldn't ever be able to live with them because she wouldn't be able to get any work done. Or any sleep.

"We have a lot of sex," Brittany tells her conspiratorially, and Rachel feels her chest tighten.

Sex.

It just ruins everything, doesn't it?

They get to work eventually, and Brittany is _so good_. There's such a gentle ease to the way she talks and shows them through the choreography, easy altering and tailoring the moves to fit their positions and capabilities.

After, when Rachel is a little breathless and suddenly hating how unfit she's suddenly very aware she is, Brittany says, "You got hotter."

Rachel startles at the words. "Excuse me?"

Brittany drinks from her water bottle, but doesn't repeat her words. Instead, she murmurs, "No wonder Q lost her mind."

Huh?

Brittany just grins at her, "Anyway," she says, entirely too brightly for after two straight hours of running and jumping around the studio floor; "I better get going. I promised San grilled cheese for dinner." And then she's gone, disappearing in something like a rainbow whirlwind.

Rachel just stares after her, a lot bemused.

Even Jesse looks lost. "What just happened?" he asks, and she's proud of him for holding out as long as he has.

"I have no idea," she answers, and she isn't even lying.

* * *

Shelby gives Rachel the shock of her life when she casually mentions possibly making it out to New York for a visit over Spring Break.

Rachel hasn't told her anything about the musical; not a whiff. She mainly talks about her classes and Liz, leaving out great chunks. There's no telling the way Shelby will react if she finds out she's been cast as a lead in a production, where she has a female love interest, that's been written by Quinn.

Wow.

She's pretty sure Shelby will set the world on fire or do something equally ridiculous. The woman tends to go a lot insane when Rachel seemingly steps out of line, and Rachel isn't willing to test her again.

Rachel has to protect Quinn at all costs. She has a promise she's still trying to keep, even years later. But things truly are different now. Quinn is older, and Rachel is... she's now nineteen.

How time moves.

People move on, she's learned.

Apparently, her life is all about teaching her very important lessons.

* * *

It starts on a Monday, as most things do. She and Quinn avoid each other as best they can, and Rachel is constantly waiting for someone to figure out that the Rae in the story is very similar to Rachel in a lot of ways.

The day Hannah says, "So, you're her?"

It starts on a Monday.

Because Rachel is a mess on this particular Monday. She's misplaced her sheet music, and she was asked to stay late after a dance class to work on a specific part of her routine. She's also exhausted.

Anyway.

Rachel sends a quick text to Hannah to tell her that she's going to be a few minutes late meeting her for solo rehearsal, given she can't find her stupid sheet music. She searches her side of the room, almost turning it upside down, before she spots her red folder sitting under a pile of Liz's canvases.

Of course.

She lets out a triumphant shout as she grabs for it, snatches her bag off her bed and bolts from the room, realising she's going to have a disaster to deal with once she gets back.

That's future Rachel's problem.

She sprints to the music room Hannah's booked for them, practically bursting into the room and stopping dead in her tracks at the sight of Quinn - _Quinn_ \- pressing Hannah against the piano and kissing her so tenderly that Rachel would cry for any number of reasons in this moment.

The couple springs apart at the noise of her arrival, both of them flushed and obviously embarrassed.

"Rachel," Hannah squeaks, and Quinn looks away, her jaw set. "Gosh, you scared us."

"Sorry," Rachel finds herself saying, and she truly is, because Hannah doesn't know. She has no idea that Rachel - this Rachel - is Quinn's first. "I thought I was late?"

Hannah chuckles. "That's no worry," she says. "Only Quinn goes all aggro when you're not punctual."

Quinn rolls her eyes, and then sighs. "I should go," she says. "I have that thing with Sarah."

Hannah's face pinches, and she reaches for Quinn's wrist.

Rachel looks away, unable to watch the way Quinn settles at her touch. Her own heart aches. Sometimes, she can forget that Quinn and Hannah are together, but seeing it right in front of her is borderline unbearable. She doesn't think she's ever going to get used to it.

"I'll call you later," Quinn whispers, and Rachel hears the sound of a kiss that has her eyes squeezing shut.

"Say hi to Sarah for me."

Quinn laughs, and it's dark. "Sure. Okay." And then she's gone, gathering her messenger bag and sending an awkward salute Rachel's way before disappearing from the room and leaving Rachel and Hannah both rather pensive.

Hannah sighs. "Sorry about all of that," she says. "I can explain myself, in some way, but _she's_ always been an enigma."

Rachel definitely knows that. "It's all right," she says, moving closer. "Most people are."

Hannah sighs again. "Not the way Quinn is," she says, and Rachel gets the feeling Hannah wants to talk about this some more.

Rachel knows she should steer them elsewhere. The last thing she needs is to talk to her ex-girlfriend's current girlfriend about said ex-girlfriend, but she must take too long to respond, because Hannah keeps speaking.

"Do you know I've never even met Sarah?" Hannah suddenly says, and Rachel's eyebrows rise. "She's Quinn's sister. We've been dating for seven months, Rachel, and I haven't even met her sister. And, I mean, I'm aware they have a... complicated relationship, but - " she stops, and then sighs again.

Rachel can't think of anything to say.

"I'm sure you don't even want to hear any of this," Hannah says, moving to sit on the piano bench. "I just - I don't know if she - what if she's not as serious about me as I am about her? What happens to me, then?"

"Hannah," Rachel breathes.

"Do you know what our biggest fight has been about?" Hannah asks, almost as if Rachel didn't even speak. "This musical."

Rachel can't help her curiosity. "Why?"

"She wrote it about her ex," Hannah says. "She started when they were dating, and then reworked it extensively through freshman and sophomore year, and I was stupid enough to get Silas and my music involved in it, because then I was falling in love, but Quinn has always just been... out of reach. Does that make sense?"

It makes a hell of a lot of sense.

"It's like she won't let go," Hannah says. "This musical is literally some kind of love letter, and how exactly am I supposed to compete with that? I can't. There's no way I can."

And, she sounds so miserable, lost and confused, and Rachel hates this. She despises this, because she knows what she has to do, and it makes her angry with Quinn for putting them in this position.

"Quinn loves you," Rachel says, moving to sit beside Hannah. She doesn't actually want to be looking at her when she says her next words. "It's obvious to anyone who's looking. Maybe she doesn't show it the way you want, and that's definitely on her, but, if any of this musical is remotely like real life, then you already know it's something she would struggle with.

"I think it still says something about you and how she feels about you that she's still willing to try," Rachel says, and she honestly believes what she's saying. "Her ex is her last, and that experience has inspired this work of art. Who's to say you're not currently inspiring the next one?"

Hannah is silent for a long time, and Rachel wonders if she's overstepped, somehow. Maybe she's given them away. But, then, Hannah is actually hugging her and saying _thank you_ , and Rachel doesn't know how she feels about what she's just done.

She almost hopes she never figures it out.

* * *

What Rachel does know is that Hannah can never find out about Quinn and Rachel's past relationship. If it weren't obvious before, it's vital now. The entire production would fall apart, and so would their relationship.

Which is why Rachel actually seeks Quinn out at the end of their next rehearsal and very pointedly says, "Hannah can never know."

Quinn startles at the sound of her voice, almost dropping her phone. "Huh?"

Rachel resists the urge to roll her eyes. "Hannah," she repeats. "She can never know we dated."

Quinn blinks. "Okay...?"

"You wrote a musical about me."

Quinn visibly straightens. "About _us_ ," she corrects.

"Don't even lie, Quinn," Rachel says. "You wrote a musical about me, and now we're performing it, and your current girlfriend has to spend every day listening to songs about said love and longing and watching people perform a love story that isn't even hers."

Quinn shifts, suddenly glaring. "What exactly are you accusing me of, Rachel?" she asks. "Do you think I wanted this, huh? How was I supposed to know my semester project was going to be considered for a musical? My project I started writing before I even left Lima? Before Hannah was even a possibility? I'm sorry if you think it was insensitive of me to put my career ahead of possibly pissing off my girlfriend."

"She's not pissed off," Rachel says, ignoring everything else Quinn has just revealed. "She's hurting."

Quinn falters, and then sighs. "There is literally nothing I can do," she says. "I won't put on an inauthentic production. And, seriously, my relationship with Hannah has nothing to do with you."

Rachel honestly wishes that were the case, but the past few days have proved otherwise. "She can never know," she says again.

Quinn waves a dismissive hand. "Yeah, okay, whatever," she says, and that's supposed to be that.

* * *

But, is it ever?

Hannah seems to have accepted Rachel as some kind of relationship therapist, and it is torture. It's worse than that, even. Just, the last thing she wants is to be hearing about every little thing Quinn does, because, God, Rachel still _wants_.

Of course she does.

She's never managed to fall out of love with Quinn, and being privy to the way she still is in any kind of relationship isn't helping Rachel with her very serious problem of being hopelessly in love with another girl's girlfriend.

Liz tells her she's going to have to set some kind of boundary between herself and Hannah to stop it all, because it's not healthy, and Rachel knows Liz is right. It's just that Rachel doesn't know how to do that, because Hannah is so kind and thoughtful, and she deserves friends and good people.

Rachel is not one of those people.

* * *

Then, something happens.

Rachel knows Quinn has nothing to do with it, based on her own reaction when Tyler says, "Rachel, Sophia, you'll be working solo with Quinn today."

Quinn practically sputters. "What? Why? Since when?"

Tyler gives her a look. "You're the one that was complaining they're lacking chemistry," he says, loud enough for both actresses to hear. "Fix it, then."

Quinn flushes, and then grumbles something under her breath as she gets to her feet. She doesn't look at either Rachel or Sophia when she says, "All right then, let's go," and leads the way through the wings and into one of the free rooms. It's quite small, and Rachel is relieved Quinn leaves the door open.

"Sit," she tells them both, and then begins to pace.

Sophia glances worriedly at Rachel, and then tentatively asks, "Quinn?"

Quinn freezes, and then looks at them. "It's not quite right," she finally says. "It's not that it's bad or anything. It's just that the dynamic between you isn't what it's supposed to be. Not at the beginning, at least, and it's making their interactions come off... different."

Sophia waits, ever patient, and Rachel furrows her brow.

Quinn keeps her eyes on Sophia. "Alice is fascinated by her when they meet," she says. "From the moment she lays eyes on her, she feels something she can't explain. Some kind of shift in the Universe. It is undeniable and it is terrifying."

Sophia keeps her eyes locked on Quinn's face, and Rachel can barely look away, either.

"Their first meeting is terrible," Quinn says. "Alice makes an ass of herself, and she has the urge to mend Rae's view of her, immediately. That's when it all starts. That's when she knows this is a girl she both needs to know and needs to stay as far away from. Alice isn't in control, Sophia. That's what I'm trying to get at. There is no certainty in anything she does surrounding this girl, because everything is a fight. Do you understand? She wants, because how can she not, but she knows she shouldn't. They shouldn't.

"But it's inevitable, as well. It's written, somewhere in the Universe, and Alice knows the fight is futile. It's pointless, because, while Alice is unsure and a lot hesitant, Rae is not. Rae knows, in her heart of hearts that this can and will happen, and, while she has her own reservations, she recognises and accepts what she wants, and she needs Alice to catch up with her.

"Which she does, eventually, and that is the beauty of it," Quinn murmurs. "That is what's missing. Alice doesn't just - she doesn't - it doesn't just happen, as much as they both want it to. It is a struggle. Everything about their relationship is a struggle, and that is what is both so beautiful and heartbreaking about it. That, these two girls - children, really - have decided that the other is worth it, regardless of the fight and the consequences, and that is what I need from you."

There is a silence that follows Quinn's words that is both heavy and light.

Then, Sophia speaks. "Who is she?"

Quinn jerks, as if she's just coming back to herself. "Excuse me?"

"God," Sophia breathes. "The way you talk about her, sometimes, it's as if she's magic."

Quinn steps back, looking a little pale.

"Is she even real?" Sophia asks.

Quinn makes sure not to look at Rachel when she answers, "I liked to think so, but I've always had a good imagination."

And, Rachel knows it shouldn't hurt as much as it does, but she can't help the twisting in her chest. Because Quinn is talking about her as if she's some girl she's somehow immortalised in a musical; as if she no longer exists beyond what Quinn has put into words and music.

As if the version Quinn has portrayed on a stage somehow disappeared on a cool Friday night, right along with their relationship and innocence and secrecy. All because of the swing of a bat.

That's what Quinn needs from her. From them.

Rachel is going to give it.

* * *

Tyler comments in their next rehearsal that something is different. He can't quite put his finger on what it is, but he seems pleased, and he shoots a dorky thumbs-up at Quinn that she ignores.

Not that Rachel is paying much attention, but Quinn appears distracted by something. She's constantly checking her phone and barely watching what they're doing on stage. She even steps out for a few minutes to take a call, and it's so unlike her not to be completely present while she's here with them.

Something is obviously not right, and Rachel is curious. Not enough to ask, of course, but enough to observe. More than usual, at least.

There is something, and it doesn't look good.

* * *

It lasts three long days before it reaches some kind of head, and Rachel witnesses it happen in stages. Quinn, who is usually so present and enthusiastic, has to be coaxed onto stage by Tyler, because they're in the middle of blocking a scene where Jesse's character Jonathan and Sophia's Alice share a dance at prom and quietly discuss the way they both so obviously feel about Rachel's Rae.

It's actually a conversation Rachel has been meaning to ask Quinn about. She wants to know if it really happened, or just something similar. It seems unlikely, because none of them even went to prom, and Finn didn't even know about Rachel and Quinn until after Quinn graduated.

Anyway.

Quinn steps up on the stage, and it's the first time Rachel has really seen her up close in a while. The sight of her catches Rachel off guard, and her brow furrows.

Something is definitely wrong, and Rachel isn't so sure it's related solely to whatever has Quinn so distracted.

It happens just minutes later, and Rachel will wonder why it takes her so long to figure it out.

Rachel isn't exactly in the scene. She's standing on the sidelines, watching as the girl she loves - Alice - dances with the boy society _expects_ her to love. She's watching Quinn instead, her expression one of confusion and longing, which is kind of what Tyler wants from her, anyway.

Then.

"Wait," Quinn says. "Jesse, your hands have to be visible. Lift them higher."

Jesse does as instructed, and Quinn nods in approval as she steps back... and promptly falls over.

A bunch of them laugh, right until the moment they realise Quinn isn't getting back up. In fact, she's not even moving, and, the second that piece of reality kicks in, Rachel is scrambling across the stage and dropping to her knees at her side.

Of course.

 _Of course_.

The paleness and irritability and sweatiness and sunken eyes and -

Her glucose is low.

"Quinn," Rachel says, dragging Quinn's head into her lap. "Hey, come on, don't do this. Never again, remember? Baby, you promised."

And, Quinn _did_ promise.

Rachel holds her cheek, wincing at how clammy it feels. She looks at some of the people gathered around her, mind solely on making sure Quinn is okay. "Somebody get her bag," she says. "Give us some space."

"Should we call a doctor?" Dom asks.

"Her bag," Rachel snaps, and Greg practically leaps off the stage to retrieve it.

Rachel takes off her own jacket and balls it up to make a pillow for Quinn as she moves her head again. Without thinking too hard about it, she opens Quinn's bag and goes straight for the little bag she knows she'll find there. She also finds an energy bar and a box of apple juice.

Rachel's heart is racing. She's done this only once before - and with Quinn's guidance - but her fingers already know what to do. The people around her fade to nothing, and she quickly tests Quinn's glucose level. Too low. Way too low. It hasn't been regulated. Maybe she hasn't eaten, or she hasn't had her injection or something.

So, Rachel does it for her, only vaguely aware of people turning away when she inserts the needle to inject the glucagon. She opens the juice box once she's done and contemplates forcing Quinn to drink, but decides against it. She'll make her drink when she's awake.

At least her colour is returning.

"Jesse," Rachel suddenly says, and he appears. "Please may you carry her to one of the back rooms. She needs some rest."

Jesse just nods, and then scoops Quinn up as if she weighs nothing. Rachel is hit by a memory of thinking the same thing when she first saw Russell do the same, and she feels sick. And exhausted.

Rachel watches him carry her away until they're out of sight, and then she carefully cleans up her mess and repacks Quinn's bag.

Sophia kneels at her side and puts a hand on her shoulder. "Rachel," she whispers. "How did - that was - are you okay?"

Rachel manages a nod as she zips away Quinn's things. She hands Sophia the juice box. "Will you please make sure Quinn gets this?"

Sophia has just enough time to nod before Rachel is getting to her feet and gathering her jacket. "If you'll excuse me," she says to nobody in particular, and then disappears from the stage without a word, all of them too stunned to go after her.

* * *

Quinn wakes to a hand in her hair. It's comforting, soothing in a way that almost sends her right back into slumber.

Only, someone pinches her arm and her eyes fly open.

It's Hannah.

 _Only_ Hannah, and Quinn is both relieved and disappointed.

"You asshole," Hannah says, and her eyes are hard. "You stupid, stubborn idiot! What were you thinking, huh? I told you to eat breakfast, and your stupid app hasn't been updated in two days, Quinn. Are you trying to kill yourself?"

Quinn just blinks stupidly at her.

Hannah lets out a breath, visibly deflating. "How are you feeling?" she asks, her tone softer.

Quinn struggles to sit up, determined to be on even footing. "I - I'm not entirely sure what happened."

"You passed out," Hannah says, and then very flatly says, "Rachel gave you glucagon."

Quinn freezes.

Hannah looks away, and then reaches for the juice box on the floor. "Here," she says. "Drink this. You'll need your strength for what we're about to talk about."

Quinn shifts until she's sitting upright and drinks her juice, her mind whirling with all sorts of explanations she can come up with to get out of this with her relationship still intact.

But, God, she's exhausted, and lying about the fact she even knows Rachel has really taken its toll. Coupled with everything to do with her sister and her mother; Quinn would really like to go back to sleep right now.

She finishes her juice and prepares herself for the inevitable.

Hannah asks, "Is it because Rachel obviously knows first aid?"

Quinn frowns. "What?"

"I don't know how Rachel could have known about your diabetes without your telling her," Hannah says; "and the only reason I can think of for you to do that is if it were absolutely necessary. Did she figure it out first, and you had to come clean? Does she - "

"Hannah."

"Because, I know you wouldn't just tell her," Hannah says, and there's something painful and desperate in her voice. "You wouldn't. Because we dated for four months before I even caught a whiff something wasn't right, and you're always so reluctant to talk about it, so I can't figure out why a girl - a stranger, who you don't even seem to like on most days - knows this one, sacred thing about you after just five weeks."

And, Quinn really doesn't know what to say to that.

"Quinn," Hannah says. "Please tell me you didn't actually tell her."

It's the moment Quinn realises Hannah needs this from her. She needs this assurance. "I didn't," she says, and it's the truth. "She saw me injecting myself once," she explains; "and then she accused me of being on drugs, which, yeah, was fucking psychotic. We had a few conversations about it afterwards, and I guess she did her research. I don't really know."

Hannah breathes a sigh of relief, and Quinn thinks she's going to throw up. "I'm sorry," Hannah says. "I just - I don't - this whole thing is making me crazy. I - I keep having this nightmare your ex is just going to pop up out of nowhere to watch the musical, and then take you away from me."

Quinn chokes a little as she pulls Hannah into a sudden hug, squeezing tight and hiding her face in dark blonde hair. It's too much. She doesn't know how much more of this she can handle.

Hannah eventually breaks the hug, gently kissing her cheek. "Come on," she says. "Let's get you home."

Quinn is determined to follow where she leads.

* * *

Liz returns to the dorm room she shares with Rachel to find a disaster. The room, itself, sure, but also the girl curled into a tiny ball on her bed.

"Fuck," she mumbles under her breath, and then crosses the room, dumping her bags on the floor as she goes. She drops onto the edge of the bed, her eyes widening at the trembling form of the girl who's managed to worm her way into Liz's cold heart.

"Rachel," Liz murmurs. "Rachel, what's happened?"

It takes a moment, but Rachel eventually rolls onto her back and Liz sees her face for the first time. It's blotchy and her eyes are bloodshot and puffy. "I can't do it," she says. "I can't do it."

Liz moves some hair off her forehead. "Can't do what?" she asks. "Because the Rachel Berry I know can do anything."

Rachel closes her eyes. "I love her," she says painfully. "I love her so much, Liz, and I don't know how - what do I - can I - " she stops and descends into tears again.

Liz smooths a hand over her hair. "What happened?"

"Did I ever tell you that she almost died when we were in high school?"

"No."

"Some guy hit her over the head with a baseball bat and I was so close to losing her for forever." Rachel's face pinches. "Which, I guess, I ended up doing anyway."

"Rachel?"

"I can't do it anymore," she says. "I don't know how I'm supposed to keep pretending I'm okay when I'm not. I've never been. Not since - "

"Not since?"

Rachel presses her lips together. "You're not going to let me give up, are you?"

"Of course not."

Rachel sighs. "I don't know what to do."

"What do you want to do?"

"Drag her into my bedroom and have my dirty way with her."

Liz laughs. "I _really_ have to see this girl."

Rachel hums, and then startles when there's a knock at the door. It's a timid sound, and there's a part of Rachel that just knows whom it is. She almost says _don't_ when Liz gets up to answer the door, but she holds her tongue.

She wants to see Quinn; just to make sure she's actually all right.

Liz opens the door just as Rachel sits up, and Rachel almost laughs at the gasp she lets out. "Uh, hello."

Quinn is leaning against the doorframe, looking exhausted. "Hi," she says, glasses on her face and hair a gorgeous mess. "Is Rachel here?"

Liz just stares at her.

Quinn clears her throat. "Uh, this is Rachel's room, right?"

Liz nods. "Sure, yeah, this is, uh - "

"Liz," Rachel suddenly says as she gets to her feet. "It's okay."

Liz glances back at her with wide eyes and mouths _she's so fucking hot_ , which makes Rachel smile.

Rachel moves to stand beside Liz, and then almost in front of her. She, herself, almost gasps at the sight of Quinn, who looks haggard and disjoint. Definitely not herself. If Liz thinks Quinn looks good like this, then she has another thing coming.

"Hi," Quinn says, breathing out in relief, as if all she's wanted was to see Rachel. "Are you okay?"

Rachel almost smiles, but her heart is still aching. "I should be asking you that."

Quinn runs a hand through her hair. "I'm - I mean, I guess I'm fine."

Rachel acknowledges that Liz has moved away, giving them some privacy, and she steps closer to Quinn. "Are you?"

Quinn shrugs. "Not really."

Rachel wants to reach out and touch her, but she resists and says, "How are your levels now?"

Quinn winces. "Steady," she says. "I, uh, well, I wanted to apologise for... all of that. And say thank you. I - I guess I haven't really been... good."

"Are you ever?"

Quinn lifts her eyebrows, because there's a hint of teasing in Rachel's voice that seems to catch them both off guard. "I - uh, yeah."

Rachel sighs. "Something else is bothering you."

"What?"

"I've... noticed," she admits quietly. "You've been distracted."

"Oh."

"You don't have to tell me, obviously, but I - please can you just take better care of yourself." She licks her lips. "If I know how I feel watching you splayed out on the floor and unconscious, then I can only imagine how Hannah feels."

Something happens to Quinn's face then, but it's gone before Rachel can truly register it. "I'll try," she says.

"No, Quinn," Rachel says, and she sounds stern. "You have people who are relying on you, beyond this stupid production. You're helping nobody working yourself into the ground, okay? Just, get it together or whatever the hell Coach Sylvester used to tell you crazy robots."

And, Quinn grins. It's this wide, happy thing that makes Rachel want to kiss her. It's so much like her teenage self, before Rachel backed her into an impossible place and left her to drown. Before their lives fell apart at the seams.

"We both knew she used... more colourful language."

"That woman was insane."

Quinn nods once, and then sighs, her smile fading. "I - I have to tell you something," she says; "about Hannah."

Rachel does her best not to react. "Is she okay?"

"I think so," Quinn says, but she sounds uncertain. "She - she wondered how you knew... about, you know."

Rachel blinks. "Oh, right, yeah," she says. "What did you say?"

"Basically what happened," Quinn says. "You saw me, jumped to conclusions, and then we eventually talked it out. I just left out the whole part where it happened like three years ago or however long it's been."

Rachel doesn't think, for a second, Quinn doesn't know _exactly_ how long it's been. "Okay."

Quinn breathes out. "Okay."

Rachel offers her a tiny smile, though it's a sad one. Whatever she's feeling for Quinn doesn't even matter. It's never mattered, maybe, because her mother took it and twisted it into something ugly and painful, and Rachel needs to get it into her head that Quinn will never want her again.

Why would she, when the first time she allowed herself to give into this resulted in a full-blown disaster?

"I should get going," Quinn says, and her body chooses that moment to yawn. It catches her off guard, and Rachel reaches out before she can stop herself, bopping Quinn's nose the way she used to when life was both easier and harder than it is now.

Quinn freezes, and Rachel freezes.

They just stare at each other for a long moment, before Quinn stumbles back, breaking the connection. She shakes her head as if to clear it, and then smiles shakily.

"I - um, I'll see you at rehearsal," Quinn forces out, and then spins on her heel and disappears down the corridor as if she's being chased.

Rachel watches until she's completely gone from sight, and then turns around to see Liz watching her carefully.

"You are so fucked," is Liz's helpful observation.

Yip.

* * *

So, so fucked.

The words ring in her head as she makes her way to rehearsals with Hannah, absently wondering if it's bound to be as awkward as she anticipates it's going to be.

Though, she needn't worry in the end, because Silas is there instead of Hannah, and Rachel can't help thinking this entire situation has just become that bit more complicated. Is it because of the fainting incident? Does Hannah find it weird that Rachel now knows?

Has always known.

Silas says, "There was a Quinn emergency," as explanation, and Rachel is a distracted mess for the next forty minutes. The rehearsal is terrible, and her voice is just off, and it takes Hannah's arrival to settle something within Rachel.

"Sorry," Hannah says, sounding weary. "Some family stuff came up, and I just managed to catch Silas to tell him to meet you. How are things going?"

Silas goes on to explain their lack of progress while Rachel turns over the word _family_ in her head. Because Hannah is Quinn's family. Her found family.

Rachel is not.

"From the top," Silas eventually says, and Rachel just about manages to get her head together enough to hit the right notes, if not feel the right emotions.

She is so fucked.

* * *

Cash organises a cake for Quinn's birthday. The date itself has never evaded Rachel, obviously, but it does sneak up on her, and now she's faced with a smiling Quinn Fabray and absolutely no choice but to look at her.

It doesn't help that Hannah is also here, who seems more inclined to remain right beside Quinn throughout the entire little celebration. They sing for Quinn, and then they eat cake.

Sophia hovers near her, and Jesse complains because the cake is actually vegan, which Rachel definitely appreciates. The situation seems just that bit more complicated, all of a sudden. Because, before, Rachel could handle her love. She could keep it hidden and suppressed, but something has been unleashed now, and Rachel gets the impression Quinn can feel it, as well.

Maybe Hannah can, too, though Rachel definitely doesn't blame her for wanting to hold onto Quinn as tightly as possible - especially after the recent fainting episode. If Rachel had been able to, she would have done the same.

It just isn't all that pleasant to see it, so Rachel does her best to avoid it as much as possible. She remains glued to Jesse's side, her attention split between him, Dom and Greg, and trying not to look at Quinn and Hannah as much as possible.

She's not sure if she succeeds.

Did Rachel mention just how fucked she is?

* * *

The sentiment doesn't get any better when she rocks up at rehearsals a few days later to hear that Quinn won't be making it. Tyler seems a little distracted himself, and he decides it's best they rehearse the scenes they've already pretty much nailed.

Which is basically a lot of Rachel and Jesse.

During a break, Rachel risks asking about Quinn, and Jesse seems just as stumped as she feels. She's curious, but not enough to do something about it.

Not today, at least.

And the day gets even worse when Tyler finally calls an end to proceedings and dismisses them for the evening. Everyone seems a little on edge, right down to the orchestra. As if they're already feeling the effects of having their fearless leader missing in action.

Rachel is ready to get back to her room and force thoughts of Quinn out of her head, so she can -

"Baby."

Rachel startles at the voice at her side, and she turns to look at Sophia, frowning. "Excuse me?"

"Baby," Sophia repeats, looking at Rachel as if she's never seen her before. "You called Quinn that when she collapsed."

Rachel freezes. "What?"

"You said, 'Baby, you promised,'" Sophia points out, and her gaze has hardened. "Are you two - fuck, are you two sneaking around?"

Rachel's eyes widen, and she frantically looks around to make sure nobody has heard her. "Sophia, seriously, keep your voice down."

"Why should I?"

Rachel turns to face her. "Because starting that kind of rumour could derail not only this performance, but also Quinn's relationship."

"Like you even care about that," Sophia scoffs.

"Of course I do," Rachel insists, because she does. "And Quinn and I aren't involved, okay? We're not."

"Why on earth would you call her that, then?"

Rachel deflates. "It was a slip of the tongue," she confesses, because it really was. She barely remembers anything of what she said that day.

Sophia gives her a dubious look.

Rachel leans against the table behind her. "Quinn and I aren't involved," she says again, and it's a truth that stings just thinking it, let alone saying the words out loud. " _Now_."

It takes a moment for Sophia to click, and then her eyes widen. "Holy shit," she practically squeals, and Rachel immediately covers her mouth with her hand.

"Keep it down," she hisses.

"You're Rae."

Rachel stiffens. "No," she says, and she's suddenly so sure of it. "I'm not. I'm Rachel. Rae is merely someone Quinn created."

"Based on you," Sophia mumbles against Rachel's fingers.

Rachel takes her hand back and shakes her head as she wipes it on her jeans. "It really was a slip of the tongue," she says. "Do you - have you discussed this with anyone else? It's not exactly something I suspect will be well received."

"Because of your casting?"

Rachel is really referring to Hannah, but she still nods.

"Everyone knows Tyler cast you before Quinn even got here," Sophia points out. "Though, I guess her reaction makes a lot more sense now."

Rachel licks her lips. "It's just better that as little people know as possible," she says.

Sophia nods thoughtfully, and then quietly says, "Hannah doesn't know, does she?"

Rachel shakes her head. "As far as I'm aware, not many people know at all," she says. "It was a secret, remember? Nobody has to know." She actually feels sick as she says those last four words, because they have haunted her for years.

Even though Quinn told her it wasn't her fault, Rachel has never believed it. Quinn has always been too kind to her, but they can't deny the mere accusation was damning. Damaging. Destroying.

Maybe Sophia sees something in her expression, because she suddenly hugs her, which is something they've never done before.

"I didn't even know you were gay," Sophia says when she releases her, hands on her shoulders.

Rachel drops her gaze. "As far as the world knows, I'm not," she says. "It's just safer for everyone if it remains that way."

"Safer?"

Rachel sighs. "Quinn definitely wrote the PG version," is all she ends up saying, and Sophia figures out no more questions are going to be answered tonight.

Possibly ever.

* * *

Quinn makes it back to rehearsal a few days later, and she seems a lot more settled. Less distracted. Like something has been resolved.

She also looks much healthier, colour in her cheeks and her eyes alert. Her hair also looks pinker, as if she's retouched it in the few days she's been away.

Everyone seems to have breathed a sigh of relief at having her back. Tyler went through an entire myriad of moods, and Rachel forgives him for snapping at them, given the stress he must be under.

Quinn is back, and Rachel is reminded just how fucking fucked she is.

Sophia pinches her arm when Rachel stares a little too long, and she flushes darkly as she forces her gaze away and back to the jukebox in front of her. It's a real one, even if it doesn't really work properly. Cash's boyfriend managed to find it for them, and Quinn practically fangirled over it when it first arrived.

In this scene, Rae is supposed to pick a song, which ends up being her duet with Alice. They're in a bar they shouldn't be in, but they just wanted to go somewhere they could be alone and possibly talk about what's happening between them.

The song is called 'Take Me As I Am,' and one can basically guess what it's about. It's a gorgeous song, and there are lyrics in it that are words Rachel has actually said to Quinn. Words that will forever be immortalised.

Words Rachel has never been able to forget.

"Let's get started, people," Tyler says. "Places."

Rachel feels her demeanour shift as she slips into Rae. It's helped thinking about her as someone completely different. Initially, she thought she might infuse the character with parts of her, but that hasn't been the case.

Rae isn't her.

She wasn't lying when she told that to Sophia.

Rae is an amalgamation of what Quinn once saw in her, twisted slightly for entertainment purposes. If Rachel was ever like Rae, she's definitely not anymore. She's harder, darker than she ever was, and she already harboured demons when she and Quinn first started dating.

This part is easy. Rachel has the words and choreography down, and Sophia moves around her with ease. Rachel thinks they've done well with this scene, but Quinn still says, "It's not right."

Rachel deflates, and Sophia raises her eyebrows expectantly. Sophia must look at everything differently now, and Rachel sometimes hates that she knows.

Quinn comes onto stage, her glasses pushed up into her hair, which makes her look hotter than it really should. "I know what the lyrics say, but the song isn't really just about the two of them explaining why they're there. It's not about taking each other as they are, physically." She pauses. "Well, not only about that."

Sophia coughs.

Quinn frowns slightly. "The song is about giving in," she says, and she steps closer to Sophia. "Alice has been fighting it. They've both been fighting it, exhausted with the excuses they've come up with for wanting to talk to each other and spend time together." She looks at Rachel. "I get that they're basically telling the other person they want what they've been fighting, but the song is meant to be some kind of surrender. The way it is right now, it's too tight. It needs to be loose. Alice is saying, 'This is me. I'm here and I want you, and I'm so tired of having to pretend I don't. So, here I am, take me as I am, because this is all I have, and I want to give it all to you.' It should be like breathing a sigh of relief when she says it." She sighs. "Same with Rae."

Rachel frowns slightly. "What if it's not the same for her?"

"Excuse me?"

Rachel knows she shouldn't, but she can't help it. "Rae isn't giving in at this moment," she says. "She already did. This moment is all about Alice, because _she's_ been the hesitant one. Didn't you say it yourself? Rae has been waiting for her, the way Alice knows she always will."

Quinn blinks, looking slightly alarmed. "Perhaps," she eventually says. "I mean, the sentiment is the same in the fact the song isn't quite right, so let's just try it again." She turns away and practically leaps off the stage.

Sophia shoots a look at Rachel, basically a 'what the hell was that?' kind of look, and Rachel just shrugs in response before she moves back into position to restart the song.

Even if the second time doesn't turn out quite right, Quinn says nothing about it.

* * *

Choreography really picks up when they hit March, and Rachel sees more of Brittany as they polish every dance move and finalise every step any of them make on the stage. She learns more about Brittany's life since high school, and that pang of nostalgia and longing hits her, once more.

She missed the way Quinn went about discovering all the little things she loves about New York. She missed Brittany's first dance showcase, and she missed Santana's first New York throwdown.

Brittany pouts a little at that mention, but she smiles a beat later.

Rachel hasn't really been able to hide her familiarity to this particular blonde, but beyond Jesse's initial question, nobody has asked about it. Perhaps they think they're just kindred spirits, given how tactile Brittany is. Rachel won't say otherwise.

It isn't even about Quinn, anymore. Keeping their pasts hidden wasn't even anything they talked about; just mutually did, and it's almost as if Brittany hasn't got the memo. It's refreshing in a way, but she wishes Brittany wouldn't make it so obvious.

Rachel doesn't want to answer questions. She wouldn't even know what to say.

A part of her is even worried that people might think Rachel was favoured when casting was done because of her past with Quinn.

But, then again, Brittany is her chosen choreographer, and Hannah writes her music, and Rachel is sure a lot of other jobs are because Quinn wants to bolster all the people she's come into contact with.

Rachel is one of them.

Because there's a certain buzz surrounding the production. Quinn is already somewhat revered around the various departments, given her previous works, but this is the first time a junior is writing and producing such a production, and that's even before anyone remembers that 'Said Too Much' is being headlined by a freshman.

No pressure or anything.


	15. Chapter 15

**XV**

Cash schedules for them to go bowling. It's mainly the speaking cast, which some of the chorus, crew, and Hannah and Silas. Rachel almost ducks out of the entire thing, but Sophia comes to her room personally to make sure she attends - the traitor.

Rachel regrets it immediately.

The bowling alley is dark and stuffy, and Quinn is with Hannah, and Rachel wishes she could have stayed in her warm bed and avoided having to witness this heartache. Before, she had it under control. Before, she could at least be in the same room as them, but things are different now, and she gets the feeling they all know it.

Even if Hannah doesn't know about her past with Quinn - which Rachel is sure she would know if Hannah knew - there is some kind of unmistakable question that exists in the air all around them.

Still, Rachel shows up, and she stays with Sophia for the entire evening, laughing when Jesse trips over himself and having an actual conversation about penguins with Cash's boyfriend, Marcus.

Rachel is terrible at bowling, so she doesn't really pay much attention to who's winning, in her own lane or in any of the others. In the end, Tyler lets out a whoop and does a ridiculous victory dance for a long minute before Greg practically tackles him to the ground.

Rachel rolls her eyes, and turns to look to her left where Sophia should be, but her eyes catch on Quinn's instead, the amusement reflected in her own. It transports Rachel right back to when they were both still teenagers, sneaking looks around Sarah and Judy, both of them hiding a very particular secret.

What secret they're sharing right now, well, Rachel doesn't know.

Quinn looks away first, her brow slightly furrowed, as if she's thinking something surprising or something she wishes she wasn't. Rachel can only imagine what that is, because she knows what her own mind is jumping to.

Their entire relationship was a secret when they were together, and it's a secret even now. It will probably always be one, and Rachel likes to think she's okay with it. Only Sophia and Liz even know she's gay and, beyond Jesse's casual interest, Rachel has made sure to deflect any boys who pay a little too close attention to her. Girls, too, because apparently she has this... open vibe about her, which just makes her laugh, because she's convinced she's been closed off since a bat swung and shattered everything.

Rachel blinks heavily, stopping that train of thought. She has truths and ideals of her life she knows she doesn't get to live.

She's gay.

She's in love with Quinn.

She's a little bit happy.

Her professional career is something already enviable.

She's actually proud of herself.

Rachel knows they're truths she won't be able to tell her mother, and that's how she knows that whatever she's feeling for Quinn doesn't even matter. If she cannot give Quinn everything, what use is there even imagining it? Wanting it, wishing for it.

And, God, Quinn looks happy. Most of the time. There's an ease to her that Rachel attributes to the fact Quinn gets to live her life open and free. She's Quinn Fabray, publicly out and living her best life as a spirited, engaging, writer of words who talks with confidence and listens with intent.

That's most of the time.

The other times, when Quinn thinks nobody is looking, her eyes do this thing. They tighten around the edges. Rachel can't explain it, really, but there's this heavy melancholy that sometimes bleeds into her, and Rachel knows it's linked to her family and her past.

To Rachel.

So, Rachel looks away, too, and she tries not to think about it.

She still does.

* * *

Rachel feels her anxiety building the closer to Spring Break they get. The mere idea of having her mother in New York with her makes her feel sick, and Sophia even points out she's looking a little green when they have their last rehearsal before they go on Break.

"What's wrong with you?" Sophia asks, in a way Rachel is coming to realise is just _her_. She can be forward when she wants to be, and she obviously knows things.

Rachel sighs. "My family is coming to New York."

Sophia looks a little confused, as if she doesn't understand why that would be so stressful, but her face settles a moment later. "Oh."

Rachel nods, and then allows herself to get lost in being Rae. The character is some kind of escape; a way for Quinn to give them just a taste of the happiness they could have had if their families didn't make it impossible.

"That's wonderful, guys," Tyler eventually calls, breaking Rachel out of her haze. "I think we're in a good place to take this sanctioned break that I absolutely didn't agree to."

Quinn laughs from where she's standing behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "We've been working non-stop for weeks, Ty," she says. "The people deserve a break before we hit the home stretch."

And, that's where they're headed. Things are really coming together, and they have just a month to go before they hit the stage to present all their hard work to an actual audience. The schedule is really going to ramp up when they get back from Break, but Rachel almost wishes they weren't pausing.

She needs any kind of excuse not to spend time with her family.

"I hope you all have a good Spring Break," Quinn says. "Try not to forget your lines and steps, please." She grins as people laugh, but Rachel can tell it doesn't quite reach her eyes.

There's been something off about Quinn for a while, and Rachel can't realistically say it's mainly to do with her. She's sure she plays a part, but Rachel isn't the reason she's distracted... from Rachel.

Not that Rachel would ever ask. It's just -

Well, nothing.

"Got any plans for tonight?" Sophia asks as they're packing up their bags to leave. "A bunch of us are going to get a drink." She laughs. "We can get you a soda."

Rachel rolls her eyes. "My roommate is going home in the morning, so I promised her some quality time," she says. "You're not going anywhere, are you?"

"Just to Jersey on Wednesday for some family thing, but I'll be around."

"We can get coffee."

Sophia nods. "Just text me if you need some kind of escape," she says, winking.

Rachel chuckles, but she's very serious when she says, "I'm probably going to take you up on that."

Sophia bumps her shoulder, and then heads off to meet some of their cast mates.

Rachel watches her go for a moment, wondering what she did to deserve people who seem to understand her. She wonders if it's because they're older than her, but even people her own age seem inclined to know her, for some reason.

Speaking of.

She fishes for her phone in her bag to text Liz that she's about to leave the theatre, but her fingers pause when she hears a raised voice behind her. Quinn's voice. Obviously on the phone, even though Rachel can't bring herself to turn around and confirm it.

"I already told you I was coming," she says, and she sounds tense. "Don't do that. God, why do you always do that? Stop blaming me for everything. You are, and you know you are." She lets out this growl, and then says, "My train is on Sunday, okay? No, Sarah, I can't come any sooner. Why? Because I'm already dealing with a pissed girlfriend because I'm going to be spending my Spring Break in Boston without her, and I need to spend time with her before then. Don't. Don't say anything you're going to regret an hour from now."

Rachel wonders if she should make it known she's still in the theatre, but Quinn just keeps going, growing more agitated.

"Sunday, Sarah. Surely you can handle it until then. No. You don't get to call me the older sister as if I have some kind of responsibility or obligation to you or Mom, because I don't. I'm coming because I want to come, and I'm coming on Sunday. Please don't make this more difficult than it needs to be."

Rachel finishes her text to Liz, but she doesn't hit send. She's not leaving yet, and she has the distinct feeling she's not going to be leaving any time soon.

Which is a thought that is confirmed when Quinn finally notices her and abruptly stops speaking.

Rachel turns around, smiling slightly. "Hi," she mouths.

Quinn still looks tense, but there's a softening in her eyes. "Sarah, I have to go. We can talk about this later when you're not willing to manipulate me into some kind of guilt that I don't feel." And then she hangs up, breathes out, and says, "How much did you hear?"

Rachel shrugs. "A lot."

Quinn deflates. "I have to go to Boston," she reveals.

"Do you _have_ to?"

Quinn smiles sadly. "I guess," she says, and then starts towards Rachel, moving to lean against the table on which Rachel's bag sits. "My mom - she - " she stops and frowns. "She has MS."

Rachel sucks in a sharp breath. Oh, Judy.

"She was diagnosed last year," Quinn says. "It's kind of why they're back in my life, I guess. My dad is out of the picture, and I guess they're trying or whatever. It's just - like, what if none of that was happening, you know? What if she was still healthy? Would we even be talking?"

Rachel has no idea what to say to her.

"She's going to be in Boston this coming week," Quinn says. "There's this doctor there that she was referred to, and Sarah doesn't - she can't handle it. So I have to, or whatever, but I can't - "

Rachel takes a step towards her. "It's always going to be a tricky situation," she says. "I think you're doing well maintaining your stance on the entire thing."

"It's not selfish?" she asks. "My mom is sick. Shouldn't I just... give in?"

"No," Rachel says. "Maybe. To an extent." She frowns. "I can't figure out how I would react to my mother in this situation, but, then again, _my_ mother is the villain in our story, when yours isn't."

"It doesn't make her innocent."

"It also doesn't mean you have to hate her," Rachel points out. "You can be sad, and you can feel whatever you're feeling. You're also allowed to care about her, even if it's wrapped up in every other emotion on the planet."

"It's like they want to ignore everything that's happened," Quinn says, her expression falling. "Like, we can somehow just erase the last few years, just because there's some family crisis. Well, I can't just forget it. I lived it. I _still_ live it."

Rachel wants to touch her, hold her and assure her everything is going to be okay, but she resists.

"How do I just forget that Sarah threatened you, or that my parents didn't even show up at the police station? How do I forget that it was Brittany's parents who came to get me, and when I did go home, all my stuff was sitting on the front lawn and there was a note saying I had half an hour to get it off their property? How - how do I just forget that they basically threw me out, left me with nothing and nobody? How do I just do that?"

Rachel closes her eyes, because she didn't know half of those things. "You don't," she says. "You don't forget, Quinn."

"But I forgive?"

"Nobody is asking you to do that."

"Aren't they?" Quinn presses. "Isn't that exactly what's happening? When my mom called the first time, she asked me how I was, if I was healthy and happy, and then she told me about the diagnosis. Just like that."

"No apology?"

"Not then, and, even when it came, it - it just wasn't - "

"It wasn't enough."

"It wasn't enough," she echoes with a nod. "Will it ever be?"

Rachel shifts to lean against the table beside her, both of them facing forward. "I think this is something you need to do, if not for them, then for you," she says. "You can deal with it when the time comes, but you're still going to go to Boston and you're going to try to be some kind of support to two people you still care about, regardless of your familial relations."

Quinn glances at her. "As if it'll be easier if I don't think of them as my sister and mother who abandoned me when I needed them most?"

"Maybe."

Quinn seems to ponder it. "Maybe," she murmurs, and then allows them to exist in silence. It lasts a full minute before Quinn quietly confesses, "Hannah isn't happy with me."

Rachel can't describe the swirl of emotion in her chest, but she keeps her expression carefully blank.

"She can't seem to figure out why I have to keep her separate from my family," she says. "I shouldn't have to explain that it'll end in disaster. The last person I cared about this way that they got their hands on..." she trails off. "I'm just trying to protect her." She pauses. "The way I could never protect you."

"Quinn."

"I am sorry," Quinn says. "I'm sorry I wasn't there when you needed me to be. I'm sorry you had to go through all of that without me. I made a promise to you and I wasn't able to keep it, and I'm sorry. I am so, so sorry."

"Quinn."

"I've thought so hard about what I would do different," she continues. "If I could go back, what would I change? Would I? I just - I wish you didn't have to end up hurt because of all of it. I wish - "

"Quinn."

She shuts up.

"I don't know how you can feel as if you're the one who needs to be sorry," Rachel says, genuinely confused. "I'm the one that ruined everything."

Quinn gives her an incredulous. "Is that what you've spent all this time thinking?" she asks. "That I somehow blame you for what happened?"

"Don't you?"

"Of course not."

Rachel blinks. "You don't?" she asks. "But, you were so cold in the beginning. You had to hate me."

"Rachel," she says, breathy and a little disbelieving. "Firstly, I could never hate you. Ever. And, I mean, of course I was cold. It was a shock, seeing you and learning you were playing Rae, and then I'd just spoken to Sarah, and it was a lot." She meets Rachel's gaze. "But I've never blamed you. Not really. I know you tried. I know how much you tried, and I know I didn't make it any easier. I had all these plans and dreams for us, and I had to learn the hard way they were childish and impossible. Not when we were so young, and not while your mother held so much power."

"She shouldn't have even had that power," Rachel says. "It's my fault. I couldn't - I should have listened to you. We shouldn't have - "

Quinn snorts, and Rachel's eyes widen. "I think we gave it a valiant effort, but you know as well as I do that we weren't going to be able to keep our hands off each other for so long," Quinn says. "It is not your fault."

"They arrested you."

"It was more like taking me in for questioning, or whatever, and yeah, that totally sucked, but it was all on 'suspicion,' and, when your mother dropped whatever claims or whatever, Detective Garcia helped me out."

Rachel immediately drops her gaze.

"I know you called her," Quinn says. "She told me."

Rachel says nothing.

"She also told me that I was lucky, but I've never really figured out why she thought I was, because it could have been for any number of reasons."

Rachel contemplates saying her next words, but she decides they've already revealed many truths, so it won't be out of place. "She told me you were lucky to have me, at the end of the call," she says. "But I said _I_ was the lucky one, even though I knew we wouldn't be able to have each other anymore."

Quinn looks at her. "Maybe we were both lucky."

"I can't realistically accept I brought any luck to your life, Quinn."

"Will you accept happiness?" Quinn counters. "That you brought that into my life, even if it was for such a short time."

Rachel dares to meet her gaze, and there's a severity in her eyes that makes Rachel feel so, so young. "Only if you accept the same in return."

Quinn smiles, soft and sad. "Of course, Rachel," she says. "We made each other happy; made it so that the stress and anxiety of being together was worth it. I just wish - "

"What?"

"I don't know," Quinn says. "Sometimes, I just wish we could have known what it would be like to be together without having to hide. Wouldn't that have been wild?"

"We would have been crucified," Rachel says, because Quinn doesn't even know what she's done to Rachel's fragile little heart.

Quinn winks at her. "Perhaps," she says, standing up straight; "but what a way to go?"

* * *

 _Ethan and Matthew have grown_ , is the first thing Rachel thinks when her mother and brothers arrive at her dorm room, having insisted on coming to fetch her for dinner.

Rachel knows it's her mother's way of inspecting her room without being too obvious about it, but Rachel barely even cares when she sees her brothers.

Her brothers.

They're eight years old now, still full of energy and less likely to blame her for everything. Matthew's hair is longer, and he has paint on his hands. He's always been the gentler one, soft-spoken compared to a brazen Ethan.

When Shelby has asked all her casual questions - Rachel making sure to mention Liz has a long-term boyfriend _again_ \- the four of them leave to meet Pete at a local restaurant.

Pete. Rachel doesn't hate him, not really. She rather feels sorry for him. He seems like a decent guy, and he's been a good father to the twins, but he was never going to be anyone of significance for Rachel.

She's not even sure why she's looking at her family this way.

As if she suddenly just knows this is going to be the last time she sees them. As if she's made a subconscious decision to leave them before they can abandon her. As if she's already made the decision to live her truest life, and she's prepared to lose them in exchange for happiness.

It's Quinn's fault, she thinks. That conversation they had is bleeding into her psyche, and Rachel can't help thinking she's always expected it would come down to something like this. Just as Quinn is maybe getting her family back, Rachel is probably going to lose hers.

It plays on her mind as she tags along on what is essentially a Henderson family holiday to New York. Shelby visits a few old friends, and so does Pete. Rachel spends time with Matthew and Ethan in a way she hasn't before, giving them a tour of her campus and getting Jesse to accompany them to the American Museum of Natural History, because he's really just a kid.

It's the moment after, though, when Sophia and Dom join them, and Jesse and the boys chatter away about what they've seen that something both light and heavy settles in the pit of Rachel's stomach.

She knows what's coming.

And it's merely confirmed when Shelby and Pete meet them all on the front steps of the museum, and Rachel makes the mistake of standing too close to Jesse, even smacking the back of his head and leaning against his arm.

She knows, from the moment her mother sees them; sees the way Jesse wraps an arm around her shoulders, and also sees the way Sophia links their arms together, that Shelby will never accept her.

And, for the first time in her life, Rachel is willing to accept it.

* * *

"Jesse seems nice," Shelby says, later, and Rachel stares at her for a long, long time. "Such nice hair."

Rachel doesn't say anything as she contemplates what this moment means for her. They're at a park, Matthew and Ethan throwing a football around with Pete, and Rachel is sitting on a bench with Shelby. She was texting Liz about how ridiculous she's finding her brother's new girlfriend, but now she's looking at Shelby and saying, "Jesse _is_ nice."

"Where did you meet?" Shelby asks.

"At school," she says. "Same place I met Sophia and Dom and everyone else."

Shelby's face pinches. "Indeed."

Rachel sighs, heavy and exhausted. "I'm not going to date him, if that's what you're about to suggest."

"Why not?"

Rachel narrows her eyes. "I would tell you it's because I'm gay, but you don't _hear_ that, so would you hear me when I say I'm more focused on my schoolwork and I'm not interested in a relationship right now?"

Shelby clenches her jaw. "We're just here to have a good time, Rachel."

"Then don't talk to me about relationships," she snaps. "As long as you have your way, I'm going to end up sad and alone."

"It's because you won't even try."

"Try what, Mom?" she asks. "Why do I have to be the one to try, when you can't be bothered to, either, huh? Why is it on me?"

"I'm not the one sinning."

"Who on earth told you that?"

"Excuse me?"

Rachel puts away her phone and says, "If you think you're entirely blameless in this entire clusterfuck you've created, then you're more deluded than I thought."

"Rachel."

She gets to her feet. "You're just here to have a good time," she mocks. "Wouldn't want to get in the way of that, now would I?"

* * *

Later, Rachel asks Shelby, "What really happened with my father?"

Shelby's jaw clenches, but she eventually deflates. "In the end, he wanted neither one of us," she says. "It's as simple and as heartbreaking as that."

Rachel stares at her. "Did you make him choose?"

"Oh, Sweetheart," Shelby hums. "I didn't even have to."

* * *

When her family leaves, Rachel knows.

She just knows, and it hurts her hard enough to leave her in tears.

She cries, just this once, and then makes the necessary plans.

She has a life to live.

* * *

"Why is Quinn looking at you like that?"

Rachel sneezes into her sleeve, and then looks at Sophia, who has a slight frown on her face. "Excuse me?"

"Quinn," Sophia says. "She's looking at you in a very particular way."

Rachel hesitates for a beat, and then looks over at Quinn, who is, indeed, looking at her with a certain look. It takes a moment for Rachel to recognise it as something painful.

Rachel knows, of course, what day it is. She's trying desperately hard not to think about it, but this is a haunting day for her, so she can only imagine what it's like for Quinn.

Rachel still has nightmares. She's woken in a panic several times, and she was almost forced to tell Liz a bit about the attack. She was horrified, still is, and Rachel appreciates that someone knows.

So, she knows why Quinn is looking at her, which is why she says, "The date is particular to us."

Sophia raises her eyebrows, sipping at her water. "Is it something I can ask about?"

"It's the last time we were together," Rachel says.

"The day you broke up?"

Rachel sighs, sagging slightly. "We didn't ever actually break up," she confesses. "Something happened, and we just never managed to get past it."

"Oh."

Rachel looks away. "It was mainly my fault," she says. "My mother - it was - it was bad."

Sophia bumps her bottle of water against Rachel's in some kind of quiet solidarity. "I'm sorry."

Rachel glances at Quinn, who has a hand pressed to the top of her head, a crease in her brow. Rachel imagines she's feeling the impact sight, and Rachel actually feels sick. It hurts her so suddenly. Her stomach rolls, and she lurches to her feet, startling Sophia and several other people who are enjoying their brief break from the scene they're perfecting.

She stumbles away, needing a bathroom before she loses her lunch completely. She barely makes it, bursting into a stall, dropping to her knees and throwing up. It's not the first time it's happened in relation to the event, but it's the first time it's been so visceral. Her heart is pounding and she can barely see and it -

"Hey," a voice says from behind her, and gentle hands pull back her hair. "It's okay. You're okay."

Rachel feels weak when her stomach finally decides to stop hurting her, and she slumps to the side, those hands steady on her shoulders. She keeps her eyes closed, not wanting to see, but knowing the voice belongs to Quinn.

Quinn.

Who could have died.

She would have died; probably should have, based on her injuries.

Quinn tucks some hair behind Rachel's ear, her fingers warm. "You're a mess," she murmurs, and her voice is soft and affectionate. "Here," she adds, and Rachel feels a bottle of water pressed into her hand and some tissue.

It takes Rachel another few minutes to open her eyes, and she's teary when looks at Quinn. Quinn, who is kneeling right in front of her, eyes soft and body open. Quinn, who is looking at her as if she understands. Quinn, who is alive and breathing and kicking and so stupidly gorgeous that Rachel might burst into tears.

God, Rachel loves her so much.

Quinn shifts a little closer. "I know this is going to sound weird, but, uh, you can touch me if you need to," she says, blushing darkly. "Like, if you need to feel that I'm here or something." She looks away. "I'm just saying - I mean, sometimes I have to do that to myself, so if you - "

Rachel reaches out to touch her, right hand landing on her forearm and shutting them both up. Her hand slides along Quinn's skin, her own breath catching at the smoothness and the tickle of her little hairs.

Rachel's hand moves over her bicep, marvelling at the firm muscles, up onto her shoulder and across her collarbone. She hears Quinn's breath catch, but her hand continues along the length of Quinn's neck, tickling her jaw, tracing the shell of her ear, and finally, finally settling in her hair, fingers against her scalp.

Quinn leans into her hand, almost automatically, and Rachel feels her skull, where there's an actual depression under her fingertips.

"I have a dent," Quinn says softly, managing a tiny smile.

Rachel blinks. "You have a dent."

"Pretty cool, isn't it?"

And, yeah, it's actually kind of cool in a weird way. Rachel presses her fingers into it and sighs, her heart rate slowing as her eyes close.

Quinn sits with her for as long as it takes, and it takes a while.

When she finally gets it together and opens her eyes again, Quinn is still looking at her with those perfect hazel eyes. Rachel eventually removes her hand from Quinn's hair, noticing but refusing to register the way Quinn shivers.

"Are you okay now?" Quinn asks, visibly concerned. "Did that help?"

Rachel studies her face closely. This is Quinn, the first and only girl she's ever truly loved. A girl who has grown so much in the years they've been apart. If Rachel had ever managed to fall out of love, she's sure she would have fallen right back into it in this moment. With the way Quinn is looking at her, it'd be impossible not to.

"Rach," Quinn murmurs, her brow creasing. "What can I do?"

Rachel just stares at her, just now realising this is the first time she's actually touched Quinn willingly and with some kind of purpose. She feels the same but different, and Rachel wonders just how much she can get away with in the moment. She wants to hug Quinn, just hold her and feel her in her arms.

She remains where she is.

Quinn isn't hers.

"I'm okay," she finally says, finding her voice. "I - I don't really know what happened. I'm sorry."

"Hey," Quinn says, hand resting on Rachel's knee. "Don't be sorry. These things always manage to get the best of us." She sighs. "I usually don't come outside on this day. I stay at home, hiding from the world, because, I swear, sometimes I see him when I look into the crowds, and I was the one unconscious and delirious for most of it."

Rachel makes a strangled sound in her throat.

"Logically, I know he's not there, but I - I can't help it." Quinn swallows. "So, I just stay inside, shut out the world and try to pretend I'm not still crippled by the idea of someone hurting me for the person I love."

Rachel can barely look away from her.

"When I was fit enough, I started taking self defence classes," Quinn says. "I just needed to feel as if I could protect myself, if ever something like that happened again. I just - " she stops and frowns. "I wanted to be able to do for myself what you did for me." She looks at Rachel's hands that are resting in her lap, and she hesitates for a moment before she covers them with her own. "What these hands did for me."

Rachel stares down at the contrast in their skin tones.

"I know we've never really had the opportunity to talk about what happened properly, but I need you to know how grateful I am for these hands," Quinn says. "I know about what happened only from what people have told me, but I've always been aware that these hands saved my life."

"Quinn," Rachel breathes, her heart aching.

"Thank you," Quinn says, squeezing her fingers, and the two of them sit together in another slice of forever. They would probably stay in that position for ages, but Sophia eventually comes to find them, eyes lingering on their clasped hands for probably a little too long, but it's a sign that Quinn feels as if they're doing nothing wrong that she doesn't snatch her hands away.

Quinn releases her slowly, and then helps her to her feet. There's a hand pressed to the small of her back, and then Quinn asks, again, if she's okay.

Rachel nods, even though the last thing she feels is okay.

If Quinn doesn't believe her, she doesn't mention it.

Apparently they're not going to mention a few things, because that hand on her back remains there for a long, long time.

* * *

Sophia asks, "What is going on?" when Quinn is out of earshot.

"She almost died," Rachel says, gulping water. "Sometimes, I forget that she didn't."

* * *

Liz takes one look at her when she steps into their room and says, "I'm calling reinforcements," and Ross arrives half an hour later with vegan pizza and booze.

He's kind of the older brother she wishes she had, kissing the top of her head and handing her a slice of pizza, before he leaves once more.

Liz studies her carefully, but they don't talk about it. Instead, they drink cheap wine and watch _Netflix_ until Rachel is sleepy and teary.

Rachel says, "Sometimes, it's as if she isn't real." She buries her face in her pillow, words a little slurred. "Today, I was reminded that she is."

It might just be the thing that breaks her.

* * *

Something has changed, though Rachel wouldn't be able to say exactly what.

They're winding up to the biggest weeks of their lives, and Tyler looks as if he's slowly losing it.

Cash even gets a little dictator-ish when the tickets finally go on sale, and she snaps at a few people when she's trying to designate seats for the cast and crew.

Quinn, in comparison, is rather sedate. She's calm while everyone begins to panic, and Rachel doesn't even want to think how everything would just derail if even Quinn lost it a little. Instead, she guides them through rehearsals and offers tiny pieces of advice as the days come and go, just getting them closer and closer to opening night.

But, something has changed, and Rachel doesn't quite recognise what it is until she just does.

* * *

In theatre terms, they're performing only one Preview, but they have two full dress rehearsals before that, and that is truly the beginning of what Rachel will, one day, call 'The Inevitable.'

Rachel wouldn't call herself... nervous, but she is stressed about putting the entire show together. It's existed in bits and pieces for so long, and this is the first time it's going to be seen in its entirety, with full costume and orchestra. Music and blocking and choreography and all those things.

It's a little terrifying, but also extremely exciting.

This is the first time they get to do full hair and makeup, and actually do their costume changes between Acts. The last thing she wants is to mess up changing from her skirt into her jeans. She has this persistent nightmare of getting her legs caught in the denim and tripping over herself in her rush to get back to the stage.

Wow.

Somehow, she manages to get it together enough to slip into Rae, and take to the stage with the air of someone who seems to know what she's doing, and the entire thing is over before she even knows it. It's beautiful, really, the way she can slip into the role and emerge on the other side, the crew applauding their performances.

Tyler says, "Can we meet out front? We have a list of things to go through," when everything has quieted and they've managed to change out of the costumes.

Rachel exhales, suddenly worried.

It wasn't that bad, was it?

Jesse links his arm with hers and guides them through the wings and down the stairs, right into two seats in the front row. He's honestly the best ally she didn't know she needed, and she thinks she would have some kind of crush on him if she did actually swing that way.

"What do you think they're going to say?" Jesse asks, his voice low. "I thought we did well."

"It's probably just little things," she says. "I mean, I noticed there were a few transitions that were clumsy."

She turns out to be right, with Tyler reading from a compiled list of notes he made during the performance. It's a lot to do with moving from scene to scene, blocking changes and a few line alterations to help with better flow.

Then Tyler dismisses them, and Rachel breathes out in relief... that's cut short when Quinn moves to stand over her and says, "Rachel, can I have a word?" and that is how Rachel finds herself being walked back to her dorm by Quinn Fabray.

Quinn says, "It's nothing bad," and Rachel believes her. "I just wanted to talk about the final scene. The one before the final song."

"You mean Alice and Rae's kiss?"

Quinn licks her lips. "I do, yes," she says. "I don't want to tell you it's wrong, but there's something missing."

Rachel frowns. "What do you mean?"

"I feel as if it's insensitive to ask you this, but what were you thinking when _we_ first kissed?"

Rachel feels a rush of emotion flow through her, and she takes a moment to respond. "I don't think I was thinking much of anything."

Quinn glances at her. "Exactly."

"Oh." She sighs. "I'm overthinking things?"

"I think that's what's happening," Quinn says. "It's different when you're acting with Jesse than it is with Sophia, and I - " she stops and looks away. "It's because Sophia's a girl. I was under the impression you were okay with that."

"I am," Rachel insists, because she is. "I didn't even realise I looked as if I wasn't."

"It's almost as if you tense up," Quinn says quietly. "As if you're worried you'll be reprimanded for it."

And, isn't that a complicated thing to say?

"Is Sophia the first girl since - "

"You?"

Quinn nods.

"She is," Rachel says, and she's not embarrassed by it. The idea of actually being with any other girl just doesn't appeal to her, so long as Quinn exists in the world. "My mother has had a firm grip on... my life for so long. I guess I always think she's going to pop up out of nowhere and call me out on anything and everything I do, whether or not it involves kissing girls."

Quinn sighs. "I'm sorry," she says. "I wish things were different."

"I know."

"I don't know what I can say to reassure you," Quinn says. "I want to tell you we're safe here, but I can't make that kind of promise. I can say this, though: our play, our production, _is_ a safe place. Our people, Rachel. You don't have to worry about that."

Rachel bites the inside of her cheek as they get to her dormitory building, and she takes out her student card to give them access. They pass by the reception and walk towards the stairs, both of them quiet in contemplation.

It's in the stairwell that Quinn says, "It took me nearly two years to feel comfortable enough to kiss anyone else," and Rachel feels the ache in her chest. "Spring Break, sophomore year, and I freaked the fuck out about it. I had nightmares for a full week after, reliving the attack and losing you and the entire clusterfuck that was all of that. I know it's not the same, because you're not actually interested in Sophia." She pauses, her face pinching. "At least, I don't think you are."

"I'm not interested in Sophia, Quinn," she says, and there's something very purposeful about her words that Quinn will never be able to deny.

Quinn seems to breathe out in relief, which, uh, what? Wait. "So, I know it's not the same, but it's okay to have reservations about it," she says. "I just want you to know you're safe here _with us_ , and I'm here to help in any way I can."

Rachel sneaks a look at her, because Quinn can't be literal with those words. 'Any way' could be anything.

Quinn doesn't say anything again, just following as Rachel guides them to the common area on her floor. There's a small kitchenette in the corner, and a turquoise couch that's more of an eyesore than anything. She sets her bag on the floor and takes a seat, visibly thinking about what she wants to say.

Quinn sits beside her, about a foot between them, and she waits patiently. The space is empty, which is a relief, because it helps Rachel feel comfortable enough to tell the truth.

"I didn't really think about the kisses until they were happening," Rachel confesses. "Jesse made a joke about popping a mint before we took to the stage, and Sophia and I never actually talked about it, which I now know was a mistake."

Quinn watches the side of her face, understanding in her features.

"I didn't think I would kiss another girl ever again," she confesses softly, and Quinn shifts closer. "I wasn't even sure I wanted to. It's to do with my mother, sure, but also - also to do with you."

Quinn's brow furrows.

"It's stupid," Rachel says, flushing. "I guess I just wanted you to be the last girl I kissed, if that was going to be it. I didn't want to taint it or something. God, that's embarrassing."

Quinn blinks. "Oh."

Rachel covers her face with her hands. "I've never sounded so much like a child until this moment."

Quinn chuckles softly. "I highly doubt that."

Rachel peeks at her. "Shut up," she says, and she can't stop herself from acknowledging that this little talk has actually helped. There are deeper conversations they could have, but Rachel isn't really in the mood for revealing to Quinn that she's still in love with her.

Even if she's sure Quinn already knows. It's kind of obvious to anyone who's really paying attention.

Quinn smiles softly, her eyes tender in a way they haven't been since they were just figuring out how much they even wanted each other so long ago. "You're an idiot," she says, and her voice sounds fond and affectionate.

Rachel shakes her head, visibly amused. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Quinn bumps her shoulder with her own, and then kind of just stays there, her upper arm warm against Rachel's.

Rachel is very aware of the contact. Of the smile, the eyes that drop to her mouth for a moment, and the -

Quinn snaps back quite suddenly. She stumbles to her feet, and then puts as much distance as possible between the two of them, leaving Rachel confused and nonplussed.

"Oh, my God," Quinn says.

Rachel gets to her feet, staring at Quinn with wide eyes. "Quinn, what is going on? What's wrong?" She takes a step forward, to get closer to her.

"No," Quinn shouts. "Don't come any closer."

Rachel freezes. "What is happening?"

"I - I thought - I mean, I am - "

"Quinn?"

"Don't," Quinn says again, and she sounds as if she's in pain. "Please. Don't. Just stay there. In fact, move back. I need - I can't - "

"Quinn?"

"I love Hannah."

Rachel flinches, from the pain that truth causes, but also from how out of place the confession is. "Okay..."

"I've been so good," Quinn says. "God, do you have any idea how long it took me to feel safe enough to allow myself even to consider going on a date with anyone else? I rejected so many people, because everything hurt, and I really didn't want to have to go through - _God_." She scrubs her face with her hands. "But Hannah persisted. And then it just happened, and I love her, Rachel. I love her."

Rachel looks away, her heart breaking.

"And, I was fine. Everything was fine. I was getting over it. I moved on, and I was happy, and everything - and then - you. _You. Fuck._ "

And, Rachel thinks she finally gets it.

"So, just stay over there," Quinn says. "Because I love Hannah, and I don't know what the fuck I'm going to do if you come any closer."

Rachel doesn't move.

"Fuck," Quinn says again. "Just, fuck." She tugs on her hair, suddenly looking a little feral. "We - couldn't you - I was - I was fucking fine."

And, this - God, this right here - is the first lie Quinn has told her. Rachel is suddenly so sure of it, and she says, "No, you weren't."

Quinn stares at her, eyes wide and wild. There are tears pooling in them, and she looks frightened. It reminds Rachel of the last time she saw Quinn on that fateful day, when she made a promise she hasn't yet been able to keep. Quinn just looks so lost and confused, paralysed by her nobility and determination.

"Well, I'm definitely not fucking fine right now," Quinn snaps, and Rachel almost - _almost_ \- smiles at the sight of the HBIC coming out to play.

"But, you will be," Rachel says, and something happens in that moment. Something inexplicable and very, very important.

Quinn straightens to her full height and sets her jaw. God, she's stunning. "You're right," she agrees strongly. "I will be." And then she's gone.

Rachel won't admit it, but she already knows exactly what Quinn is going to do.

* * *

The second dress rehearsal goes much better. It's smoother and more cohesive, and Rachel feels better about her final scene with Sophia. It helps that she imagines she's kissing Quinn instead, which, uh, also makes her feel a little guilty.

Regarding both Quinn and Sophia.

Her mind was elsewhere, but her body was Rae kissing Alice, and that's all that matters in the end.

Tyler seems pleased, and Quinn manages to smile at the end, even if there's something shifty in her eyes.

"That's great work, ladies and gentlemen," Tyler says, clapping his hands. "We have a few days off, and then our Preview is Monday night. It'll mainly be our classmates and teachers, so we expect them to be our harshest critics."

Rachel is definitely looking forward to a few days to rest her voice and try not to think about her last conversation with Quinn. She's really too young for all this drama.

Or too old.

Just too something.

So, when Tyler eventually dismisses them, Rachel grabs her things and leaves without saying a word to anyone, because, wow, she knows what the next words out of her mouth are going to be.

She bursts into her dorm room to find Liz sitting at her desk, and the words come tumbling out. "I think Quinn wanted to kiss me."

Liz stops what she's doing immediately and spins in her seat to gaze at her. "What? When?"

Rachel slams the door closed behind her and dumps her bag on the floor. "Last night," she says. "We were in the common area and we were just talking, and then she pulled some kind of Edward Cullen tricks to get away from me."

Liz blinks. "Uh, I don't get that second part, but, like, why are you freaking about this now when it happened last night?"

"Because I didn't know what it was last night," she says. "But Quinn does this thing when she's feeling guilty, and it all just clicked into place when I saw her. Oh, my God."

"What?"

Rachel's eyes widen. "I know what happens now," she says. "I know exactly what happens now."

"What happens now?"

Rachel won't say it out loud, just in case she jinx it, so she rather says, "Now, you read _Twilight_."

Liz cackles. "No fucking way."

Rachel throws herself onto her bed and sighs heavily. "It's Wednesday," she says.

Liz looks at her, visibly confused. "You still haven't told me what happens now."

Rachel side-eyes her. "Now, Liz, we wait."

* * *

Rachel sees Sophia on Sunday, the two of them meeting for coffee in the afternoon, because Sophia claims she's missing her.

Rachel reads it for what it is: nerves.

They get their drinks, and find their seats. Rachel has to let Liz know she might be late meeting her and Ross for a good luck dinner, and she's fiddling with her phone when Sophia brings up a topic Rachel honestly wishes she wouldn't.

"Did you hear?"

Rachel finishes her text to Liz, and then looks at Sophia. "Did I hear what?"

"Quinn and Hannah broke up."

Rachel's eyes widen, just as her jaw drops. "What?"

Sophia nods, looking thoughtful. "You really didn't know?"

Rachel bristles slightly. "Of course not," she says, though she definitely suspected it might happen after Quinn's near-breakdown - just maybe not quite so soon. Quinn might have tried to work it out, Hannah willing, but Quinn is Quinn, and she wouldn't know how to be less than fully committed to her relationship.

"Last week some time," Sophia tells her. "Hannah changed her relationship status on _Facebook_ yesterday, and, yeah, they're totally over."

Rachel really isn't sure what to say about that, so she rather just sips her coffee and mentally asks Sophia to talk about something else.

Which, mercifully, she does.

They talk about complete nonsense for an hour, and Rachel appreciates the fact they've managed to distract each other from the biggest week of their young lives.

* * *

While opening night is important, it's really the Preview that sets the tone for the way the official performances are going to go. The school's various media platforms are going to be in attendance, and the articles and reviews they push out are going to determine the kind of turnout they receive.

Which is why there's a certain edge among them. This kind of tension that's seeped into their bones, and it takes Quinn tripping over a electrical wire that hasn't been properly taped down and saying, "Mother fucker," to get the air around them to loosen. She laughs at herself, and everyone laughs with her.

Quinn wishes them all luck, looking into each of their eyes and passing on the sentiment with a kind of severity that makes Rachel's toes curl in a way she really, really wishes they wouldn't.

Rachel tries not to think too much about the fact Quinn lingers in front of her, and she clears her own mind as she takes to the stage as Rae, determined to give the character the performance she deserves.

Rachel is almost sure she succeeds, if she's to go on the sound of the applause once the orchestra has played the final note and the cast is spilling into the wings, smiles and laughter on their faces and in their beings.

She can't even remember what happened, if anything, and she asks Jesse to pinch her arm to prove to her it's all real.

It is.

It's all so very real, and Rachel gets another reminder of it when she's back in her dressing room after all the excitement has died down. She's changed out of her costume, comfy in her sweats with her guard way down.

Which is why she doesn't notice when she comes into the room, the sound of her voice almost like a bullet.

"You're not exactly what I pictured," Hannah says, and Rachel freezes where she's packing her bag to head back to her dorm.

This moment is almost expected, but Rachel wishes it wasn't happening. This is honestly the last thing any of them needs, but even she knows this conversation is probably overdue in some respects. But, God, what would Quinn think if she knew they were even talking about this?

"Quinn thinks I don't know who you are," Hannah says, frowning slightly when Rachel can't think of a response. "I wondered if she would ever tell me, but I guess she thought she was protecting me or something. I have a history of reacting poorly to things involving the musical or her past relationships, so I can only imagine how she thought I would respond to the idea of you suddenly just appearing back in her life, because of some kind of kismet or whatever."

Rachel audibly swallows.

"It was after the whole injection thing," Hannah continues. "I mean, I picked up something odd between you two before then, sure, but I could excuse it for any number of things. She's attractive, and nearly everyone who meets her falls for her a little bit. But this was something else... There was always just something about you, and the fact Quinn carefully avoided you or talk of you raised some red flags, and then that incident really made me think about it.

"I know I shouldn't have, but I stalked you a little, and then I asked Brittany, and she had a lot to say. I feel bad about that, because she's so trusting, but then Quinn's mom was sick and Quinn was struggling already that it just didn't make sense to call her out on it, so I tried so hard not to think about it."

God, Rachel just wants to disappear.

"I talked about her to you," Hannah says, blinking. "And you just let me. You assured me she loved me when I got insecure about it."

Rachel licks her lips. "I meant every word."

"It must have been horrible for you."

Rachel shrugs. "I don't take any of it back."

Hannah nods once. "I don't think it's a good idea for me to tell her I know," she says. "The guilt will just eat away at her, and she's _tried_. She's tried so hard to be what I need her to be. I know she has. I guess I just couldn't ever compete with her first love."

Rachel closes her eyes for a long moment. "Hannah."

Hannah's smile is sad. "It's okay," she says. "I mean, I kind of always got the impression I was living on borrowed time, you know. Our love was always temporary."

" _Hannah_."

"Not yours, though," Hannah says, and she sounds so sure. "I know she's noble, and she'll force herself to stay away from you even though we all know it's the last thing she wants. You might even allow it, because you'll think it's too soon or you'll hurt me or whatever, but, God, Rachel, don't be an idiot again."

Rachel flinches.

"I don't know the full story, because Quinn definitely doesn't talk about it, but I know enough to tell you that things are different now. You're both older, hopefully wiser, and this isn't the kind of love one just allows to pass by."

"Hannah."

"It's okay."

Rachel shakes her head. "I'm sorry," she says. "I never meant - "

"I know," Hannah says. "I think that's both the best and worst part about this entire thing. It's something like fate or something, that you ended up right here, plucked out of a pool of auditions by Tyler, meant to play this part in this musical, as if it were written for you."

Rachel wants to say something. She _has_ to say something.

"The musical is beautiful, Rachel," Hannah says. "So is the love story behind it." She takes a step back and almost shrugs, defeated. Accepting. "I think it too deserves a happy ending. Don't you?"

And then she's gone, leaving Rachel with far too much to think about.


	16. Chapter 16

**XVI**

Obviously, Rachel avoids Quinn, because was she really going to react in any other way?

She doesn't even tell Liz about the updates in her life that she's literally played no part in. She has a Tuesday to get through, and then Wednesday is upon them and she just gets the feeling her professional life is about to take off.

Her personal life just holding on for dear life.

* * *

Opening night is as stressful as one imagines it would be. Tyler is everywhere, running around like a headless chicken, which Cash just finds more amusing than anything, given she has everything all under control.

They have one last meeting as a cast before they break for makeup and costumes, huddling together and sneaking smiles at each other.

"This is it," Tyler says, looking a little bewildered about the entire thing. "We finally made it. I'll admit there were times I wasn't sure we would, but here we are, and I am so proud of all of you. The amount of work you've all put it, your dedication and your talent. I don't really have much to say. Just break a leg out there, and enjoy yourselves. This is what we were all meant to be doing, and go out there and show it to the world."

Quinn speaks next, her voice low and serious. "I just want to say thank you," she says. "I know preparing for this moment hasn't been easy. It's taken a lot of hard work and a lot of time I know not everyone has, and I just want to thank you all for helping make one of my dreams come true." She risks a look at Rachel, who is already looking at her. "I wasn't sure I was going to mention this, but I think it's important you all know how amazing you already are. The theatre department has chosen our production as the marquee for the season."

There are a few cheers, even as Rachel turns confused eyes on the people around her.

Quinn takes mercy and chooses to explain. "Basically, they voted unanimously that our production is the best of the season, which means we're expecting a heightened - almost a gala - evening on Saturday. I just - you guys - I am so proud of you, and so, so happy! Which I hope you're all feeling as well.

"We're ready. We're going to kill it. I have never been more sure of anything in my life. This is a very special moment, and, like Ty said, just go out there and enjoy yourselves. Nothing even matters beyond that. I'm already the proudest I could be and we haven't even started."

"God, you're such a sap," Cash says. And then adds, "Break a leg and I love you guys, now get your asses ready so we can get this show on the road."

Rachel laughs as she gets crushed in a group hug, and then they separate to go do as Cash said. Because she's scary when she's like this.

But Rachel lingers a while, because Quinn is lingering, her eyes on Rachel, and there is something happening.

It's unspoken, but they both understand it.

Quinn smiles slightly, and then winks.

Rachel flushes uncontrollably.

Quinn's smile grows, and Rachel shakes her head.

Quinn tilts her head to the side, almost daringly, and Rachel rolls her eyes, grins knowingly, and then finally turns and heads to hair and makeup before Cash physically drags her there.

Because she totally would.

There's something soothing about going through the motions of getting into the character of Rae. The first Act is very understated and a little confused, with the second one being bolder and daring, and the third more subdued but certain. Her makeup has to reflect all those those things, and Quinn spent hours working on everyone's palettes with their makeup artists.

Once that's done, Rachel makes her way to her dressing room to get changed into her Act One outfit. It's relatively tame, a skirt and sweater with Mary Jane's and her hair loose. It makes her feel a lot like her teenage self, which is a little alarming.

She's in the middle of putting on her shoes when there's a knock on her door, and she shouts, "Come in," without thinking.

The door opens.

And, then, Quinn is standing there, dressed so deliciously in a dark blue suit that is practically painted onto her, tailored to absolute perfection. Her eyes are dark and smokey, lips a deep red and her expression severe.

"Hey," Rachel says, turning to face her. "Everything okay? Is Tyler losing it?"

Quinn says nothing; just steps further into the dressing room and closes the door behind her. "I have to tell you something," she says.

Rachel audibly swallows, preparing herself for the worst.

"You are extraordinary."

Rachel's gaze snaps up.

Quinn flushes, and Rachel can tell only because of her ears. "I know things have been... weird," she says; "but I couldn't not come and tell you this before you take the stage." She smiles softly. "I've always known you're talented, but I've never really had the opportunity to see it so up close and personal. You are the perfect Rae. Forget about all that other stuff for a moment, because our past doesn't even matter. You are the perfect person to play this part, regardless, and I know how hard you've worked. I know, because I've always _seen_ you, even when I told myself not to."

Rachel thinks she might cry.

"I - I know we haven't spoken in like a week," Quinn says; "so I need to apologise for that. And for just... bolting the last time we talked. I wish I could explain, but - " she stops, her brow furrowed. "I want to explain, if you'll let me. After."

Rachel gets to her feet and crosses the small room towards her. "I'm not really sure what you're asking me."

Quinn breathes in slowly. "I'm asking you to let me give you the happy ending we both deserve."

Which, yeah, okay, wow.

Quinn flushes. "Wow, that was super corny," she says, rolling her eyes at herself. "Ignore that. Please. And we can just - "

"I love you," Rachel blurts, and Quinn's eyes widen.

Then she smiles, and it's this soft, shy thing that tugs at Rachel's heartstrings. "You do?"

Rachel breathes out. "Of course I do."

Quinn's smile grows to something wide and happy. "Good," she says, her right hand lifting to tuck a lock of hair behind Rachel's ear. "Because I love you, too."

Rachel can't even explain the feeling that washes over her, spreading through her body like some kind of warm balm. It's almost as if her entire body has just exhaled, and Quinn is still looking at her with those curious, gorgeous eyes.

"Good luck out there," Quinn says, her fingers lingering on Rachel's cheek. "I'll see you on the other side." It's said like a question, so Rachel nods her head, her eyes never drifting from Quinn's face.

There's a part of her that doesn't want this moment to end, but it inevitably does. Quinn leans forward and presses a soft kiss to her forehead.

It's a promise of something, and Rachel hears it loud and clear.

* * *

If anyone were to ask Rachel anything about the show, she truly wouldn't be able to tell them. All she knows is she steps onto that stage when it's her cue, Jesse at her back, and the next thing she's aware of is a thunderous applause.

Jesse hugs her among the celebration, the orchestra continuing to play as they take their bows and accept their accolades. Her heart is pounding, and her smile is wide enough that it hurts.

"We did it," Jesse exclaims when they finally spill into the wings. He wraps her in another hug and lifts her off the ground, spinning her around. And then there's Sophia and Greg and Dom and Anna.

Rachel just wants to see Quinn.

Cash appears to usher them further away from the stage, telling them there's a small meet-and-greet awaiting them once they've changed out of their costumes.

"Ten minutes, tops," Cash says, and then they all separate. This is the first night of three open shows and one marquee performance on Saturday night, and Rachel is buzzing.

She forces herself to return to her dressing room to undress and put on an outfit that's the smart casual Cash wants from them. It doesn't come close to Quinn's suit, but nothing would.

She leaves her bag, packed and ready to pick up later, and then makes her way from behind the stage and down to the foyer, which is filled with people from the audience, cast and crew. She gets a bit of a cheer when people spot her, and it's so much more than she could have ever dreamed.

She's swarmed by people who compliment her left, right and centre, and it's overwhelming for five long minutes before Sophia rescues her and guides her to where she's standing with Jesse, Dom, Greg and Greg's girlfriend, Nadia.

She spends a few minutes with them, gracefully accepting their casual teasing about the fact she's still underage and can't partake in the champagne Cash managed to find the budget for, for their opening night.

Rachel feels alive in a way she hasn't before, and she wants -

Quinn.

She wants Quinn.

She excuses herself softly, and then turns, her eyes already searching the crowd for the only person she wants to see in an ocean of people who pale in comparison.

She spots Quinn a beat later, standing across the room with Tyler and Silas, a chute of champagne in her right hand and her gaze constantly searching the crowd.

For her, Rachel realises a moment later, when Quinn's eyes finally settle on her. Her face immediately splits into a smile, and she quickly excuses herself from whatever conversation Tyler and Silas are trying to have with her.

Rachel stands perfectly still as she watches Quinn weave through the crowd, her destination obvious. Her heart is thudding against her rib cage, her fingers tingling at the sheer idea of possibly being able to _touch_ Quinn.

God, _Quinn_.

Quinn walks with purpose, her eyes focused, and Rachel isn't ready. No, she is. She's been ready for years. She's been waiting for this moment for -

Quinn's brow suddenly furrows, and her feet stutter, almost slowing to a stop.

She halts, suddenly frozen in place, and Rachel frowns. What?

What?

Rachel feels a tap on her shoulder, and it takes her a long moment even to decide to turn around, because Quinn. _Quinn_.

Rachel looks behind her, expecting someone from the cast or even the audience.

It's not.

It's definitely, definitely not.

Rachel turns around, only to come face-to-face with none other than Shelby.

Of course.

* * *

Rachel doesn't say anything, and neither does Shelby. It's almost as if the entire room has faded to nothing, and it's just the two of them, facing off the way they haven't done since before Quinn.

God, Quinn.

They were so close.

Just steps away from finally, finally working it all out.

And, now, this. Quinn was on her way over here, and now Rachel -

She doesn't even know.

"Mom," Rachel sighs. "What are you doing here?"

Shelby regards her closely. "I received an email," she says. "An invitation from the university. I receive them all the time, but I know I'll never attend. I'm always curious, though, so imagine my surprise when an invitation to this particular play pops up and my daughter's name is listed as one of the leads.

"It had to be a mistake, obviously, because you would have told me, surely. What reason could you have not to? Did you not want me to come?"

"Obviously," Rachel says, more under breath than anything.

Shelby ignores her. "So, I wondered why you wouldn't mention it," Shelby continues. "Now I know why."

Rachel narrows her eyes. "Because I didn't want you to come. You said it yourself."

"Because you've broken the rules," Shelby says. "Again."

The rules. Of course. Shelby set rules for allowing her to live in New York; for continuing to pay her tuition, and Rachel has broken them by acting in a play with queer characters.

Where she is one of those characters.

It was always going to spell trouble for Rachel, which is why she didn't tell her mother she was even cast in any kind of production, but there's suddenly a part of her that doesn't even care. She's too high on her performance and a lot irritated that Shelby is trying to stand between her and Quinn again.

 _Again_.

"Did you even watch the musical?" Rachel asks.

Shelby falters at the question.

"Did you even watch me up there?" Rachel presses. "Did you hear me and see me and watch what I've worked so hard for? Did you? Do you even care that I'm finally doing what I was born to do, or do you hate me so much that you want me to continue to live miserably because you can't stand the fact that your husband turned out to love someone else _more_ , regardless of that person's gender?"

Shelby's eyes widen in surprise, because this is honestly the most fight Rachel has given her in such a long time. She's older now, determined to be happy, and she honestly hasn't been anywhere close since she was last _with_ Quinn, even if all of it was hidden behind closed doors.

"I'm not a kid anymore, Mom," Rachel says, and her voice sounds steady. "I'm nineteen now, and your threats won't work anymore. Want to take my tuition, go ahead. Want to keep me from my brothers - " she hesitates, because that is always going to be the part that hurts the most. "I guess I'll have to figure out how to live with it the same way you'll have to live with knowing you'll be keeping siblings apart. Want to disown me, fine. I don't even want to be your daughter. God. You've caused me nothing but pain for years, and just because of what? A man you don't even love anymore? A man who doesn't care about any of us? Because you can't find it in your cold dead heart to accept me as I am."

The words are just coming tumbling out, and she's not even aware of anyone around her. "I'm gay. I am so, so gay. I like girls, and I am going to date them and marry them, and if you can't accept or at least _try_ to understand that, then you can take your damn misplaced self righteousness and go back to your perfect cookie-cutter family in Ohio and erase me from existence the way you've made me feel you've wanted to do for years."

And, still, Shelby stands and stares, clearly unable to make sense of what's happening.

Rachel has never felt more sure or alive in her entire life. The blood is rushing in her veins, and she -

She jumps a little when she feels a hand at the small of her back and a presence at her side. She turns her head immediately, because Rachel knows that hand.

Quinn is standing so close to her, presenting something of a united front, and Rachel loves her.

Loves her so, so much.

"Ms Corcoran," Quinn says, entirely too sweetly. "Wonderful you could make it."

Shelby stares hard at them, and Rachel resists the urge to smile, because Quinn is totally about to be a little shit.

"We didn't know you were coming, or we definitely would have got you seats in the front row. I mean, you came all this way. It's the least we could do."

Did Rachel mention just how in love she is?

"Wasn't Rachel just amazing?" Quinn says. "They truly cast the best person for the role, in my opinion. God, it's almost as if it was written for her."

Rachel can't hold back her smile anymore, and she finds herself almost leaning into Quinn, which draws a very particular glare from Shelby.

Rachel wishes they could have been this bold three years ago, but even she knows they weren't ready. She was too young, and she's still young even now, but Rachel doesn't think, for a second, that Quinn will leave her now.

She's currently standing beside her, and that counts for something.

"I've always known her talent was astounding," Quinn continues; "but seeing it so up close and personal, wow, it's breathtaking, don't you think? Oh, I mean, you must know, as Rachel's mother, of course. Forgive me. I mean, the fact you came all the way out here just to see her perform this masterpiece, if I do say so myself, says so much about how you value your daughter's talent and happiness. It's enviable, really."

Rachel giggles. She can't help herself.

Shelby's glare intensifies, but she takes what she probably thinks is the high ground and says, "We are not done talking about this," in that halting voice that might have worried Rachel months ago.

"We are," Rachel finds herself saying. "If you're planning on saying what we both know you want to; there is literally nothing else to talk about."

"Rachel, you will - "

"No, I won't," Rachel says. "Not today, and never again." She settles into her new resolve, and indicates to Quinn standing beside her. "See this girl here? Remember her? She suffered at your hands, and now look at her. It gives me hope, you know? That, if she can survive you, then so will I." She sighs. "It also helps I have her in my corner. So, go on, Mom, do your worst, because I'm done living by your rules when it means I don't get to be happy. I'm choosing it. I'm choosing happiness, and I'm choosing Quinn. Damn well just let me."

And, truly, the most surprising part is that Shelby seems to, even if it's temporarily. She just huffs, clearly pissed, but spins on her heel and stalks off into the crowd, leaving Rachel and Quinn to watch after her with a mixture of shock, relief and satisfaction.

When Shelby is completely lost to the masses, Rachel turns to face Quinn, who is already looking at her with such care that Rachel will never regret what has happened here. "What happens now?" she asks, blinking repeatedly.

Quinn steps closer to her, right into her personal space. "Whatever you want," she says softly. "I just know that I'm here, and you're here, and I - "

"I love you," Rachel says, needing to speak the words into the Universe again. "Thank you for coming to stand with me. I - I've always had to face her alone."

Quinn sighs, her arms lifting with invitation, and Rachel steps right into her embrace. God. It's been so long since they've even hugged each other, and Rachel panics at the thought that they're doing this for the first time in public. How is she supposed to leave this to a normal period of time in front of all these people?

Quinn eventually lets out a tiny laugh, and then initiates their release. "Are you okay?" she asks. "Think you can handle a bit more mingling, or do you want to get out of here?"

"Uh, yes...?"

Quinn smiles, carefully shifting some hair off Rachel's forehead. "A bit of mingling," she says. "And then we can go somewhere and talk?"

Rachel manages a nod. "Okay, yeah, that, uh, yeah, that sounds good."

Quinn's smile widens. "You were brilliant, by the way," she says. "Just thought I would let you know, so you don't walk around this place not believing people when they compliment you."

"Because you wouldn't lie to me," Rachel states, not a hint of a question in her tone.

Quinn laughs, and then places hands on her shoulders, carefully turning her and sending her on her merry way. "Your adoring fans await, my dear."

* * *

Cash sends them home not forty-five minutes later, making them all promise to head straight to sleep when they get there. Apparently, they have demanding schedules and they need all the rest they can get.

"Especially you three," Cash says, pointing rather menacingly at Rachel, Sophia and Jesse. "I want selfies of all of you in your own beds within the hour."

Jesse whistles. "If you wanted to see me naked, Cash; all you had to do is ask."

"Oh, my God," she says, and then shoves him. "Get the fuck out of here."

"You love me," Jesse teases, but does eventually turn to leave, Sophia following not long after.

Rachel playfully salutes Cash, and barely has to look for Quinn before she's at her side, duffel slung over her shoulder and an easy smile on her face. She's changed out of her suit, into a pair of sinful jeans and a pale blue sweater, her hair tied back and her glasses on her face. She's still gorgeous.

"Shall we?" Quinn murmurs.

Rachel just nods, and then leads the way out of the theatre's foyer, Quinn a step behind. If anyone is curious as to why they're leaving together, well; they'll just have to deal with it another time.

"Fancy some coffee?" Quinn asks once they're at least a block away. "Or are you actually scared of Cash?"

"Aren't you?"

Quinn rolls her eyes. "I'm fucking terrified," she says a little too seriously. "A takeaway, maybe. We can take a detour, and I'll still get you to bed within the hour."

Rachel side-eyes her with a small smirk. "That's awfully presumptuous of you, isn't it?"

Quinn blushes slightly, but makes no comment. "There's a coffee place near your dorm," she says. "We can pick something up, and I promise I will deliver you right to your door."

"And then what?"

"And then I'm going to leave you to think long and hard about what I'm going to tell you in the time it takes us to get you there."

"Should I be worried?"

"Not if you don't feel the same way I do."

Rachel strongly believes they're on the same page, but she's not planning on skipping ahead. Not today.

"Sound like a plan?" Quinn asks, looking slightly nervous.

"It does," Rachel agrees, and then visibly startles when Quinn takes hold of her hand.

Quinn pulls her own back in alarm. "Oh, uh, I'm sorry," she says. "I didn't mean - I thought - " she stops, frowns, and then sighs. "I'm sorry," she says again. "I should have asked."

Rachel's heart is still racing, but she feels calm enough to say, "It's okay." She glances at Quinn's face, noting the crease in her brow and the thinning of her lips, as if she's internally chastising herself.

"I'm sorry," Quinn says again, putting a little distance between them. "I wasn't thinking."

"You just surprised me," Rachel says, coming to a stop and forcing Quinn to do the same. "I - I've never - "

Quinn's frown deepens, and then clears. "You've never really been allowed to hold my hand in public," she guesses. "This is the first time you get to be out with little care about anyone seeing you."

Rachel keeps her gaze focused on Quinn's shoes.

Quinn steps closer. "Hey," she murmurs. "I should have asked first, and we should definitely talk. I know it's going to take some time to get used to it, but we're safer here than we were in Ohio."

Rachel breathes out. "We're victims of a hate crime, Quinn."

"There are assholes in this world," Quinn says. "They're everywhere. Literally. That guy over there is probably an asshole."

Rachel glances over her shoulder to see a suited man barking something into his cell as he speed-walks, and Rachel can't help her smile.

"I should have asked," Quinn says. "I'll be better, okay?"

Rachel doesn't know what to say to that, so she just manages a nod, and then resumes walking when Quinn does. She lets them go five steps before she slips her hand into Quinn's and links their fingers.

Quinn doesn't say anything, but Rachel peeks at her smile, and it is _everything_.

She's imagined moments like these for years, and now she actually gets to live it. Her heart is steadily beating, slightly faster than usual.

They're silent as they walk to the coffee shop Quinn has in mind, and Quinn keeps them moving at a steady pace. It's something out of this world just being able to do this with Quinn, and she would think she was dreaming if she couldn't _feel_ Quinn.

Her hand is warm, soft and present, and Rachel feels the great big world grow so, so unimportant in this moment. There have been moments before - long, long before - when she could convince herself this is something they could actually have, and she's still struggling to wrap her head around the sheer idea that it's happening.

It's happening.

Quinn doesn't say much of anything as they walk, getting closer and closer to the coffee shop. The air is a little cool, but Quinn is solid and warm beside her.

Quinn opens the door for her when they arrive, and Rachel does her best not to swoon. It isn't even anything monumental, but this is Quinn and everything suddenly feels so amplified.

"What would you like?" Quinn asks as they step up to the counter. "I'm sure they have vegan substitutes here, right?"

Rachel just sighs.

Quinn glances at her. "They don't? Shit. Why didn't you say anything?"

"No, they do," Rachel tells her. "I just - yeah."

"What?"

"You remember I'm a vegan."

Quinn frowns. "Uh, I'm unlikely to forget when I have Dom reminding me every fifteen seconds that I have to cater to the the three people in my cast who are trying to save the world."

Rachel giggles. "She's a passionate one," she comments.

"She's a something, all right," Quinn grumbles, but she's smiling. "So, what would you like? The menu is your oyster." Then she winces at the sound of her own words, and it is the most adorable thing in the world. "Which, you know, would be an insensitive thing to say to a vegan, so can you just ignore that? Thank you."

"I'll just have a soy latte, please, decaf," Rachel informs her with an amused smile. "I would really like to get some sleep at some point, and coffee is potent to me."

"Coffee barely even works for me anymore," Quinn tells her, carefully releasing her hand to step up to the waiting barista. "It's the saddest."

Rachel hangs back and watches for a moment, enjoying being able to _look_ at Quinn without facing repercussions. She takes in the length of Quinn's body as she leans forward, her hands resting on the edge of the counter. Her posture is still impeccable, perfect in a way she's always been. Her hair has grown a little since the start of the year, and it's tied into a small ponytail now, the pink getting lighter as the weeks have passed since her last touchup.

Rachel does miss the blonde, but she's never going to complain about anything that helps Quinn feel as much of her herself as possible. Because that's who this Quinn is: authentic in all the ways Rachel wishes she could have been when they were younger.

Quinn peeks over her shoulder at her and winks, and Rachel feels it all the way to her toes. This is her life. This is what it can be, and she's trying not to feel too overwhelmed by it.

When they're on their way again, back out on the street, Quinn makes to hold her hand again but seems to catch herself and softly asks, "May I?"

In lieu of an answer, Rachel reaches for her hand instead, somehow needing that sense of control. It's something she knows she's going to have to work on, but Quinn looks pleased, so tonight probably isn't the night to unpack her hesitancy.

They manage to walk several feet before Quinn is speaking, and, if Rachel thought she was going to jump right into discussing _them_ , she's mistaken.

"San and Britt are coming on Friday," Quinn says, frowning slightly. "And my mother and sister, if my mother's feeling up to it."

"How are _you_ feeling about that?" Rachel asks, ignoring her own feelings on the matter, because, wow, she's got enough to deal with tonight without tacking on ghosts of her own past.

"I think I'll have to get back to you on that when I figure it out," Quinn says, her voice tired. "I just - I'm already stressed out enough about putting on this musical; basically showing the world my heart and soul, you know, and now - "

Rachel squeezes her fingers in quiet support.

"I want them all to see it, of course," she says. "Britt is a huge part of the entire production already, and San suffered through months of me talking out scenes with her, but - "

"But?"

"Sarah and my mom, all they get is the finished product," she says, and it feels as if she's talking about more than just the musical. "They weren't there for any of the work that's gone into it."

Definitely not still talking about the musical.

Rachel squeezes her hand again, and then asks, "What about me?"

Quinn looks at her, eyes soft and full of purpose. "Rachel Berry, you have been a part of everything," she says. "I thought you knew that?"

And, maybe, subconsciously, Rachel _has_ known. It just feels settling in a way to hear it said out loud. That she isn't somehow lumped into the people who Quinn has tried to keep separate from the life she's been trying to live.

"Well, you have," Quinn says when Rachel hasn't responded.

Rachel isn't even sure what to say in response. She thought she would know, if ever this moment happened. Just, on those rare, rare occasions when she allowed herself to dream of a day when she and Quinn would meet again and somehow manage to work things out; she was sure she would know the words to express whatever she's feeling.

She's wrong.

In truth, she just wants to wrap her arms around Quinn and never let her go. She thinks that would work far better than words would, anyway.

Quinn seems content just to walk, their pace slow as they sip their drinks. Maybe they don't even need words, anyway. Rachel knows what's in her heart just as well as she knows what's in Quinn's.

Rachel's building comes up far too quickly for her liking, and she forces herself not to pout as she fishes for her student card in her bag, forced to release Quinn's hand. Quinn takes her nearly-empty cup from her and throws it into the nearest trashcan along with her own.

They do not reclasp hands once they're in the building, taking the stairs one in front of the other, and Rachel wonders if her lack of responses has caused Quinn to question herself. She hopes not, because Rachel is quite certain she's been pretty obvious that she wants this in all the best and worst ways.

When they get to her floor, it's inevitable they pass through the common area, where the ugly, turquoise couch sits and almost mocks them with memories of the last time they were there together. Quinn's steps falter when she sees it, and Rachel watches her face move through several emotions before settling on something passive.

"I was going to kiss you," Quinn confesses, so quietly that Rachel barely hears her, even in the quiet corridor. "It felt like such a natural thing; just to lean in and kiss you, and my body was going to do it. I could feel it. But my brain caught up in time, and, God, what a mess." She closes her eyes for a beat. "I couldn't do that to you, and I couldn't do that to Hannah, but - but I _wanted_ it."

Rachel slows their steps as they approach her room's door.

"I thought I was fine," Quinn says. "I was handling having you around rather well, I think, but I realised that was only because I was avoiding you as much as I possibly could. And then I just stopped, and we _talked_ , and it was - it _is_ everything." She scratches the back of her neck, looking a little awkward. "It felt inevitable. That moment. Wanting to kiss you. Just wanting the world to give us this moment. It felt like I never quite had a choice. As if, from the moment you stepped back into my life, it was only a matter of time before I would find my way back to you. Does that - did you ever feel that?"

"Yes."

Quinn looks at her. "I was playing catchup again, wasn't I?"

Rachel smiles a little sadly. "Sometimes, I felt as if I forced you into a lot of things the last time."

"No, Rachel," Quinn says. "I wanted everything with you. God, I still do."

"We can have it," Rachel tells her, finally coming to a stop at her door. "We can have it. It doesn't even have to be today or tomorrow. It doesn't have to be any time soon. I know we still have things to talk about, and you might need time after everything, but - "

"I love you," Quinn says.

Rachel just stares at her.

"And I think we've wasted enough time," she adds. "Don't you?"

Rachel nods, feeling a little dumb.

"As long as we're on the same page," Quinn murmurs, stepping into her space and wrapping arms around her. This hug is heavy with feeling, their bodies saying words their mouths can't or won't.

"We're on the same page," Rachel confirms against her collarbone, and then inhales deeply.

Quinn chuckles, though she doesn't move to release her. "At least your little habit of sniffing me hasn't disappeared."

"Shut up."

"I hope I smell good," Quinn says, sounding so very amused.

Rachel just hugs her tighter, never wanting the embrace to end. She could spend eternity here, wrapped in Quinn's warmth, but it does eventually end. A door slams somewhere along the corridor, and it brings their moment to an end.

Quinn releases her slowly, gently tucking a lock of hair behind her ear and letting her fingers linger against the skin of her cheek.

It is perfect.

Quinn doesn't kiss her, which Rachel thinks is for the best. Instead, she says, "You better get to bed before Cash spams your phone."

Rachel rolls her eyes. "I think I'm going to be ignoring my phone for a while."

Quinn frowns, confused.

"My mother."

Quinn's features instantly harden. "We should probably talk about that."

Rachel shakes her head. "Not tonight."

"Okay," Quinn says. "But, I just want you to know that this isn't the end of the world. There's nothing you have to protect me from anymore, okay? We can be together now. We can make it work. I - I told you my plans before, and they still stand. Just, you know, three years later."

"It's not the end of the world," Rachel echoes quietly.

Quinn smiles softly. "Dare I say, Rachel Berry, that it may even be the beginning."

* * *

Rachel doesn't even touch her phone all day, barely making it through her lessons without ending up with a big head. Not only is Quinn willing to try again, but her performance is getting some rave reviews.

Even the cursed Cassandra July said she 'wasn't terrible,' which is really a ringing endorsement.

Tonight, Liz and her boyfriend are supposed to be in the audience, and tomorrow night - Friday - is supposed to be Santana and Brittany, and possibly Sarah and Judy. One pair is stressful enough, but having both on the same night is already giving her anxiety and she's barely got through this night.

Cash sends her straight to hair and makeup when she arrives at the theatre, and it all kind of fades to nothing as she allows the professionals to do their work. She hasn't heard a word from Quinn, and she wonders if she will, right until the moment Quinn appears in her dressing room with a bouquet of flowers and a nervous smile.

"I didn't get any for you last night," Quinn says, stepping into the room. "But... I did tonight."

Rachel can barely contain her smile as she slips out of her chair and lands on her feet. "They're beautiful."

And, they are. They're not colourful, really, because Rachel hasn't been the colourful person she can be when she's with Quinn. There are white roses and lilies and gardenias, all surrounded by everything green.

Quinn blushes. "It's not weird, is it?"

"It's not weird," Rachel confirms, stopping in front of Quinn and breathing in. She can smell the flowers, of course, but she can also smell Quinn, who is wearing a black jumpsuit tonight and a cat-eye make-up that makes it difficult to look away from her. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Quinn says, handing over the vase. "I figured you wouldn't have a vase in here, so I made sure to pick an arrangement that came in one."

"Always so thoughtful, Quinn Fabray."

Quinn's blush intensifies, and Rachel has missed her so much. "How are you feeling about tonight?" she asks, watching as Rachel sets the vase on her vanity.

"I'm not sure," Rachel admits. "Not any different? Normal? Should I be more or less nervous?"

Quinn just looks amused. "I don't think there's any specific way you have to feel," she says. "I was just asking."

"Oh." She ducks her head in embarrassment. "Well, then, I'm actually okay," she says. "Not even a little bit nervous. Though, it could help if you declared your love for me again."

Quinn rolls her eyes, but she says nothing.

Rachel smiles at her, and then returns to her seat to finish tying her laces for her first scene, which is actually the second scene of the entire musical. The first scene is all Sophia, really, with Alice's family. It basically establishes who she is as a character, and shows the first sign that not all is right in her seemingly perfect world.

Quinn has truly written a masterpiece.

"Hey," Rachel suddenly says, and Quinn seems to snap to attention, eyes lifting from where they drifted to her… legs? "You're amazing, did you know that?"

Quinn grins. "I did know that, thank you," she says; "but why are you telling me that right now?"

Rachel just shakes her head, and then says, "Your musical is truly a work of art, Quinn."

Quinn looks away. "You think so?"

Rachel nods. "I do," she says. "It's been chosen as the standout Tisch production, which is why we're having our fancy Saturday show, so I know you already know how ridiculously good it is."

Quinn shrugs. "Sometimes, I get the feeling they picked it just because it involves a queer story, and they're trying to be progressive."

Rachel thinks it over. "It might contribute," she allows. "But, I doubt they would have picked a rubbish story, even if it had representation. You're good. You've always been. Even better than good. Great. Your writing is brilliant, and you are... God, Sophia got it all wrong. _You're_ the one who's magic."

And, Rachel thinks Quinn definitely would have kissed her. Rachel recognises the signs of Quinn's desire: the way her eyes darken and her cheeks flush. Her fingers even twitch at her sides, her weight leaning forward, and Rachel is sure she's seconds away from Quinn launching herself across the small room, but then Cash is bellowing for _Places_ , and the moment comes to an abrupt end.

Quinn breathes out, says, "thank you and good luck out there," and then leaves Rachel to attempt to recover from whatever that was.

She never quite manages to, but she doesn't have to. Does she even want to?

She just slips into Rae, and all is perfect in the world.

* * *

Liz practically tackles her when she spots her in the amassed crowds in the theatre's foyer when she emerges after she's changed out of her costume. There's a small round of applause, but Rachel can barely see past Liz's frame.

They don't hug, not really, so this is foreign to them both.

Liz eventually releases her with a laugh. "Wow, that was fantastic," she says. "I mean, I knew you were talented, but holy shit, Rachel Berry, that was some other level. Your voice is out of this world. Fuck, I can't even stop smiling. Tell her, Ross, I haven't been able to stop since you stumbled onto the stage. That was scripted, right? Because that would be embarrassing."

Ross places a hand on Liz's back. "Liz, breathe," he says, and then looks at Rachel. "She's super excited. She's been telling anyone who'll listen that she's your roommate. You're practically a celebrity."

"Oh, my God."

"But, you really were amazing," he says. "I really like the duet with Rae and Alice at the bar. There was just something about it. Like - kind of like they were just... letting go." He laughs nervously, running a hand over his cropped hair. "Is that stupid?"

"Not at all," Rachel says, because it's one of the first times she's been able to talk about the _story_ beyond her own performance. "That's exactly what we were going for, so it's a relief to hear it came across."

"It definitely did," Liz says, calmer now. "Who knew your hot girlfriend was such a good writer?"

Rachel swats at her arm, but says nothing.

"Speaking of," Liz says, leaning in; "Pinkie hasn't stopped sneaking looks this way. Me thinks she wants you to head over there."

Rachel shakes her head. "But I haven't even seen you two."

"You live with me."

Rachel doesn't have the heart to tell her it might not be for much longer, if her mother has anything to do with it. Rachel already has funding applications lined up for next year, just waiting for her to send them.

That's Monday's problem.

Rachel doesn't take much convincing in the end, and she parts from them, saying, "Thank you both so much for coming," and then going to find Quinn, who is -

Rachel freezes where she is, spotting Quinn talking to Hannah.

Which, yeah.

Of course Hannah would come to the performance. Her music is in it. Just, Rachel almost allowed herself to believe -

She doesn't know what she was hoping for. Quinn is Quinn, and Hannah has been in her life for years. It seems -

Rachel stands frozen for a moment, trying to figure out what to do, but she can't make a decision quick enough, because then Hannah is looking in her direction and smiling softly. She waves her over, and Rachel is so tempted not to go.

But then Quinn is also looking at her, and Rachel has never been able to deny that smile. With a sigh, she crosses the room towards them, her steps hesitant.

Quinn motions her close to her side, though she doesn't touch her. "We were just talking about you," Quinn says, which Rachel could have guessed.

"I was just telling Quinn that you were amazing tonight," Hannah says, and she sounds genuine. "Your voice really makes the songs come alive. The entire thing put together is so much more than I could have ever imagined."

Rachel glances between them for a moment before she says, "Thank you, Hannah." She steps a little closer. "Those songs wouldn't have turned out half as good as they did without you and Silas. And you were always so patient with me on 'How To Be Happy.'"

Hannah laughs. "I had to be," she says. "I'm the one who sent you all over the place on that one."

"My voice thanks you."

Quinn looks a little wide-eyed as she watches them, and she and Hannah share a knowing smile.

Hannah takes pity on her. "It truly is a masterpiece, Quinn," she says. "I - I know I always had my reservations about it, but never about your story or your talent."

"I know," Quinn tells her. "I just - I - "

Hannah pats her arm for just a moment. "We've already talked about it," she assures her. "And, for what it's worth, I am happy for you both."

Quinn practically jumps in place. "What?"

Hannah looks between them. "Oh, uh, was I not supposed to know you two are dating?"

"We're not," Quinn says quickly, and then seems to think twice. "Uh, not yet, I guess. But, wait, why would - how - "

Rachel reaches for her shoulder, resting her hand there. "She knows, Quinn."

"What?" Quinn squeaks, high-pitched and panicked.

Hannah looks so, so amused. "It's okay, Quinn."

"It is?"

"Maybe, sometimes, it wasn't, but it's okay, now," she says. "I'm okay, and you're okay, and all I want is for you to be happy, and we all know the only way you'll get to be that is if you're with Rachel. It's really as simple as that."

Quinn has absolutely no idea what to say to that, and it shows.

Hannah pats her cheek, almost patronisingly, and then smiles at Rachel. "Look after her, okay?"

Rachel nods. "Of course."

Hannah gives Quinn one last look, and if it's a little too long; Rachel tries to ignore that. Hannah is giving them her blessing, and that means something. She doesn't say anything more, and then turns and walks away.

Quinn watches her until she's disappeared into the crowd, still looking bewildered. "She knows?" she eventually asks Rachel. "And you know she knows? What the hell?"

Rachel probably shouldn't be as amused as she is, but Quinn's expression is priceless. "Come on," she says, linking her arm with Quinn's. "Let me buy you a coffee and tell you all about it."

* * *

Rachel is tempted to skip Friday in its entirety, but Liz forces her out of bed and into her lectures because she's supposed to be the perfect student or something like that.

Her phone remains hidden away, and she uses her _iPad_ to stay on top of her emails and reviews. Quinn knows this, which is why it's not a surprise when she receives an email from her, asking if she's free for lunch.

It's not a date, Rachel tells herself, because she knows Quinn would want their second first date to be something significant and special. Still, she sends a confirmation to meet outside a restaurant she prefers, and then spends the rest of the morning panicking.

For no reason, really, because Quinn practically lights up when she spots her, and Rachel's heart stutters in her chest. Wow. Okay. She's never felt so much like a teenager than in this moment, and she barely hesitates before moving right into Quinn's space for a hug that lasts much longer than she initially anticipates.

Quinn isn't complaining.

"Hungry?" Quinn asks when she lets go, her cheeks flushed.

Rachel isn't really, but she still nods and follows Quinn into the restaurant, wondering how she's supposed to survive this hour, right out here in the open. Their coffee meetings the past two nights have been easier, under the dark of night. They weren't obviously _together_ , but Quinn pulls out her chair for her, and rests a hand on her shoulder.

Rachel isn't uncomfortable, per se, but the last actual date she went on with Quinn resulted in disaster beyond anything she could have predicted. It makes her tense, and she can't quite relax around their waiter, who gives her a curious look when she glares a little too hard.

"Rachel," Quinn says once they've placed their order. "Hey, is something wrong?"

"What?"

"You just seem... off," Quinn points out, trying to be delicate about it. "And you're about to burn a hole into our waiter."

Rachel blinks repeatedly, and then sighs. "I'm sorry," she says. "I just - I guess I'm having some kind of... Pavlovian reaction to... meals with you and suspicious waiters."

Quinn frowns, and then frowns even harder. "Does that mean you haven't talked to anyone about what happened?"

"What?"

Quinn swallows, leaning forward. "A counsellor, or a therapist, about what happened. And the aftermath."

"No," Rachel says. "Nobody. Nothing. It just - I've never - I don't - "

Quinn reaches for her hand but seems to catch herself before she makes contact, looking unsure. "Rachel," she says. "I think it's something you should consider. I've been in therapy since I arrived in New York, and I honestly think it's helped me adjust with losing my family, and you and my injury and just processing the way my life has gone."

Rachel hums thoughtfully. "I think I will," she says quietly. "Is - is that something you could help me with?"

"Of course," Quinn says, zero hesitation. "I already told you, Rachel. You're no longer a minor. You're - "

"Free?"

"If you want to be."

"What other option do I have?" she asks, because she hears something very specific in Quinn's voice.

Quinn looks away, and blushes so darkly that Rachel actually worries she's going to combust. "It's really stupid, okay, but I guess you could - God, I can't believe I'm about to say this, but you could be mine." She immediately shakes her head. "Not like in a way that means you belong to me or anything," she hurries to say. "Because that's not - I'm not about to send the feminist movement back a hundred years or whatever."

Rachel finds herself smiling. "You are so cute," she says.

"I'm also trying to tell you that you have me," Quinn says. "If you want."

Rachel reaches for her hand this time and gives it a tight squeeze. "I want, Quinn," she says. "I definitely, definitely want."


	17. Chapter 17

**XVII**

Quinn visits her dressing room again before she's scheduled to take the stage, but she comes with a bar of vegan chocolate instead of flowers. She's also a little shy, and Rachel can't quite read her nervousness.

"San and Britt are here," Quinn says when Rachel asks what has her so fidgety. "But also my mom and Sarah."

And, Rachel wonders how she could have forgotten. "Oh."

"San and Britt are fine, whatever," Quinn says, almost rolling her eyes. "But, well, my mom is - we haven't - they never met Hannah." She drops her gaze. "I think they'd like to forget I'm gay or whatever, seeing as we have our own crisis to deal with, and this is - this is going to be the first time they'll be reminded of it."

Rachel moves closer to her, reaching out to touch her shirt. Today, she's dressed in something that resembles armour. She's in perfectly tailored black pants and a deep burgundy silk blouse with buttons up the middle. Her collar is wide, revealing a lot of milky skin, and her makeup is severe. She's also in a heel that makes her that bit taller, but, God, she looks stunning.

"But, they're here, which means they're trying," Rachel says, fiddling with the buttons of Quinn's shirt with her fingers.

"I haven't told them it's about two girls," Quinn confesses. "I haven't told them it's partly about us; that Alice's story starts the way mine did, and ended the way I've always wished mine would."

"Are you worried about how you've portrayed them?" Rachel asks. "Because, and I'm being honest here, you definitely did them justice, Quinn. I don't know about you, but I remember things being... terrible, and the play is tame in comparison."

Quinn nods. "Things were terrible," she says. "I just - I don't want to lose them again, when I've just got them back."

Rachel's breath catches, because this is the moment she realises she's probably never going to see anyone in her family again. Not Pete, and not her little brothers. Her mother will make sure of it.

Quinn must register the devastation on her face, because she immediately wraps her in a hug, holding her against her body and murmuring that everything is going to be okay in her ear.

And, the best and worst part is that Rachel believes her.

Quinn holds her until Cash calls for them to take their places, and she presses a kiss to Rachel's forehead before they both leave the room. Rachel goes one way, and Quinn the other, the blonde promising to see her afterwards.

Rachel misses her immediately, and she doesn't even realise how well that translates into her performance as Rae. The way she just _wants_ Quinn, misses her when she knows she's right there. The way she realises she can now have her and love her the way she deserves to be loved.

She sings, _take me as I am, this is all I have, take me and love me, this could be forever_ , with the kind of liberation that transcends the music and the entire production.

Rachel doesn't even see Sophia.

Rae sees Alice, and Rachel _feels_ Quinn.

The applause is the most it's ever been, and the sound of it startles Rachel right out of her Rae bubble to find Jesse staring at her with some kind of wonder in his eyes. She receives her accolades, and then scampers off the stage, her heart pounding.

"What was that?" Sophia asks, appearing in front of her with the largest smile on her face. "Jesus Christ, Rachel, that was - you were - God, it was incredible."

Rachel can feel it in her bones, truly. She doesn't know how she's ever going to top this performance.

Tyler finds her before Cash can send them on their way, and he gives her a rare hug, telling her he's so proud and that she's definitely going places. Which means so much, and she's a bit teary when she finally makes it to her dressing room.

Chocolate.

She eats some chocolate, which really helps settle the buzzing in her body. She knows that, if Quinn were to show up right now, Rachel wouldn't be responsible for what she would do to her. Her body is charged; high off her performance, and she -

It takes longer to get out of her costume, but she hangs it up neatly and packs her bag, ready to leave whenever Quinn is.

Well, _if_ Quinn is planning on leaving soon, because she has people coming to see her tonight, and it might actually be best if Rachel stayed away. She's sure Santana hates her, and Rachel thinks she could go her entire life without seeing Sarah Fabray again.

Or Judy.

God.

She's the one who corrupted the woman's precious daughter.

Yip. Rachel's definitely sneaking out of here. The last thing Quinn needs is Rachel's presence adding more drama to her life, so it's really the best option for all parties concerned.

She's decided, which is really why she's not all that surprised when it all gets derailed the second she steps into the foyer, attempting to rush through unnoticed.

There's a sudden flash, and then there are several people in front of her from the university's newspaper, website and several student blogs.

Wow. Okay.

Rachel gets caught in a bit of a media frenzy that Cash eventually saves her from... and leads her straight towards Quinn, who is standing and talking to Tyler, Sophia, Jesse, Judy, Sarah, Santana and Brittany. Which is really the stuff of nightmares.

"There she is," Tyler exclaims when he spots her, and all eyes turn towards her.

Quinn's gaze is soft and happy, which is a relief. At least her family hasn't robbed her of that tonight. Sophia, Jesse and Tyler just look pleased to see her. Brittany does a little jump in place, and Santana kind of... scowls. Sarah's expression is unreadable, and there are actual tears in Judy's eyes.

Rachel almost turns around and rushes right out, but Quinn kind of motions her forward, and Rachel still hasn't figured out how to deny her. Not that she even wants to.

Rachel moves to stand right beside Quinn, feeling safest there. She doesn't know how they're supposed to play this, because Tyler, Cash and Jesse don't know that Rachel knows any of these people who are considered to be Quinn's.

She barely has time to question the situation before Judy is launching forward and hugging her so tightly that she actually squeaks in both surprise and pain.

Quinn chuckles. "Easy there, Mom," she says, resting a hand on each of their shoulders. "We need her for at least one more night, and then I swear you can crush her at your peril."

Rachel puffs out a breath when Judy releases her and holds her shoulders, giving her a good look. Rachel blushes under the scrutiny.

"Look at you," Judy says. "Look how you've grown."

Tyler, Jesse and Cash all frown at the sound of that, but nobody bothers to explain. Quinn just separates Rachel and Judy further, and then looks pointedly at Sarah.

Sarah's unreadable expression has evolved into something uncertain and hesitant. She looks more apologetic and determined, looking as if she wants to blurt out everything she's wanted to say, and just actively forcing herself not to.

"Hello," Rachel says, kind of to them all, and then steps back closer to Quinn.

"We were just talking about your performance," Tyler says, still looking a little confused. "It was honestly the best it's ever been. I knew, but I didn't know, you know?"

Rachel just smiles at him, and says, "Thank you, Tyler."

The next few moments are awkward beyond anything Rachel has experienced, and Sophia eventually takes mercy on her and asks for her help with something. Rachel says a hurried goodbye, brushing her hand against Quinn's back as she leaves with Sophia.

She doesn't feel as if she can actually breathe until they're at least a block away, and Sophia keeps glancing worriedly at her.

"I'm fine," Rachel eventually says. "It was just - God, it was just so awkward."

"Dude," Sophia says. "It was painful. What the hell happened between the lot of you?"

Rachel looks away. "It's complicated," she says. "Maybe, one day, Quinn will tell the real story." She smiles softly. "Because, at least, now, she has a potential happy ending to write."

Sophia glances at her. "No shit?"

Rachel laughs. "Yes shit," she says. "I mean, we still have so much to work through, and I need a hell of a lot of therapy, and I may never see my family again, but, yeah, she's - she is so worth everything."

Sophia beams at her. "I think this entire thing is another story completely," she says. "Like, finding your lost love because of a play. That's seriously something out of Shakespeare, man. The play's the thing, ain't it?"

Rachel rolls her eyes.

Sophia just laughs, and then gasps. "Whoa, I'm totally Quinn in all of this," she says. "God, don't you feel über weird whenever you have to kiss me?"

Rachel's smile slips. "Well, uh, yeah," she says; "but, uh - "

"Oh, my God," Sophia says. "You totally imagine Quinn, don't you?"

"What, no," Rachel squeaks, clearly affronted. "In a way, maybe, okay, but it has nothing to do with me, anyway. It's Rae kissing Alice, as far as I'm aware. I - I had to get out of my head about it, and that's how I look at it."

Sophia gives her a sceptical look, and then grins. "I'm a better kisser than Quinn, aren't I?"

Rachel shakes her head, clearly amused. "Nobody is a better kisser than Quinn," she says. "Honestly, it's not even fair that she can look that good and _be_ that good."

Sophia blinks, and then actually gasps. "Holy shit, you've had sex with Quinn," she says.

"Sophia!"

"I'm sorry," she says, laughing. "I just thought of it."

"Why are you even thinking about it?"

"Uh, you're both hot," Sophia says, as if Rachel should already know that answer. "Also, come on. You've done the deed with _Quinn Fabray_. People would kill to be you."

"Oh my God," Rachel groans. "Please stop talking."

Sophia just continues to laugh. "I bet she has stamina."

"Sophia!"

* * *

Quinn knocks on her dormitory room door more than an hour later, and Rachel is visibly half asleep when she pulls open the door to find a grinning blonde right in front of her.

"Hi," Quinn says.

Rachel rubs her right eye, yawning. "Quinn, hey, what's up?"

Quinn runs a hand through her hair. She's changed out of her armour and into sweatpants and an oversized crewneck sweater. She looks unfairly gorgeous, her face scrubbed clean of makeup and her glasses on her face. "I - well, I just wanted to check on you," she says. "Make sure seeing my people wasn't too bad for you, and tell you that you were fucking incredible tonight. God, Rachel, you were on another level tonight; I don't even think it's a human level."

Rachel's brain is still trying to catch up.

"Can I come inside?" Quinn asks.

Rachel yawns again as she steps back to give Quinn space to enter the dark room.

"Where's Liz?" Quinn asks, looking around and noting both empty beds.

"With Ross," Rachel answers, moving towards her bed and dropping onto the edge as she yawns again, using her right hand to turn on her lamp.

"You were sleeping," Quinn says, frowning. "Shit."

"It's okay," Rachel says, blinking several times. "Is something wrong?"

Quinn sighs. "I guess I just wanted to see you," she says, moving to sit beside Rachel. "I would have called, but you're still doing that whole no-phone thing."

Rachel peeks at her. "You were missing me."

"Of course, I was missing you," Quinn says. "I always miss you."

Rachel smiles at her. "Why aren't you with, uh, your people?"

"San and Britt are probably having sex right now, and my mom is definitely asleep," Quinn says.

"What about Sarah?"

Quinn bites her bottom lip. "We had a fight," she says.

"About me?"

"Sort of," Quinn admits. "More about me, really." She starts to reach for Rachel's hand, but pauses and asks, "Can I?"

Rachel nods, and Quinn slides her hand into Rachel's, carefully interlocking their fingers. "We don't have to talk about it, if you don't want to."

"I love you," Quinn says. "I have _always_ loved you."

Rachel waits patiently.

"There was a moment during my freshman year when I... lost it completely," she says. "I struggled a lot with my moods and memory after my injury, and I was always so emotional, and I had something of a breakdown."

Rachel immediately stiffens at the sound of Quinn's continued suffering beyond the initial attack.

"I'd just spoken to Sarah," Quinn says. "It was... I can't remember much more than she just called, but I had this stupid idea that maybe things could get better between us. I thought she was calling to apologise or tell me she missed me; I don't know. Instead, she called to say Russell moved out and that it was all my fault and that everything was falling apart and that she hoped I was happy I ruined our family."

Rachel clenches her jaw. "Was this before or after she started dating Biff and became an asshole cheerleader?"

Quinn grins at her. "You know about that?"

"Kurt told me," she says. "I heard a lot of things through him."

"It was awful," Quinn says, sobering. "It was... worse than that last day. I've hated my sister exactly two times in my life, and that was the second."

"I'm sorry, Quinn."

"The reason I'm telling you this is because I want you to know that, if it comes down to it, I'm going to choose you," Quinn says. "If she can't work it out, with me _and you_ , then she doesn't get to be in our lives, okay? I choose you. I will always choose you, even when I force myself not to."

Rachel squeezes her fingers. "You've already told me that," she points out. "Years ago."

"And that hasn't changed."

Rachel takes a breath, and then shifts to place a chaste kiss against Quinn's cheek. "I believe you."

"This is forever, Rachel," Quinn says. "It's permanent. You and me. It's always been."

"I believe you," Rachel says again, and she doesn't think there will be a day that she won't.

* * *

Liz pinches Rachel's cheek to wake her the next morning, giggling when Rachel blinks open her eyes. "Dude," Liz mouths, her eyes wide. " _Get it_."

Rachel frowns, blinking again. "What?" she squeaks.

Liz looks from Rachel's face to the face behind her, and then wiggles her eyebrows suggestively.

It's the moment Rachel remembers that Quinn is asleep behind her, arms wrapped around her waist and spooning her. She remembers shifting to lie down last night, and Quinn following after her, the two of them just lying together for a while and smiling stupidly at each other.

Rachel doesn't remember which one of them fell asleep first, but now they're here and now Rachel has to deal with the endless teasing she's probably going to have to endure from her roommate.

Quinn shifts behind her, absently breathing in and tightening her grip on Rachel, which makes the brunette blush and Liz chuckle.

"Go away," Rachel tells her.

Liz just pokes her cheek this time, and then finally leaves them alone.

Rachel just watches her for a few moments, and then closes her eyes once more, relaxing into Quinn's embrace and slipping back into slumber.

It's Saturday, and she finally has Quinn back.

She's not going anywhere.

* * *

Quinn takes her to brunch, a certain easiness to their interaction that wasn't there the last time they went out together. Rachel is more comfortable with being in public with Quinn, even being the one to initiate the hand-holding.

Quinn just smiles at her, saying nothing.

It's nice.

It's more than nice.

It's everything Rachel has wanted, and she finally gets to have it. She gets to have this life with this Quinn, and she finally gets to be happy. It always seemed so out of reach. It feels as if she's been fighting for years; just searching for some respite. A chance to breathe.

She feels free.

And, it's the first time she realises that she actually is.

* * *

After they've eaten, Quinn only glances at her once, just to check, before she links their fingers on the sidewalk. Rachel's heart stutters, but it's not from fear. It's because Quinn is holding her hand.

Quinn.

It's seriously something like a dream, just being here and experiencing this. Her teenage self couldn't ever have predicted her life working out this way. Everything used to feel so heavy and helpless and inevitable.

Inevitable.

 _This_ was inevitable.

Quinn squeezes her fingers, getting her attention, and she looks over with slight wonder. "What are you thinking about?"

Rachel stares at her face for a long, long moment, and then says, "You have always been worth it."

Quinn blinks slowly. "Worth what?"

"Everything this world has thrown at us."

Quinn rolls her eyes. "I am so over this world and its desire to throw things at us," she grumbles, and Rachel giggles. It's this sound that fills the space between them, and it sounds happy.

Because she is.

Finally.

God, _finally_.

"I think we're good for a while," Rachel says, unsure why she's so certain of it. "We'll figure it all out, anyway."

"Those are hefty words, Rachel," Quinn points out, carefully guiding them around a corner as they work their way back towards the main campus.

And, Rachel hears what she's not saying. She hears: _that sounds like some kind of promise, and you've made promises to me before, and look what's happened_. Quinn is too polite; too noble and beautiful to say the words out loud, but Rachel knows her well enough.

There might be something like three years between their being allowed to be together, but Quinn is still Quinn in many ways. She's just _more_ Quinn, and it is a gorgeous, glorious thing.

Rachel won't make those kinds of promises anymore. What she does say is: "All I know is I love you, and I always have, and I always will. There's really nothing else to it."

Quinn stops walking, and Rachel stops with her. "I asked you once if it was enough," she says. "Being with me. Hiding it before, sneaking around, and you told me it was. For now." She sighs. "It doesn't have to be like that anymore. Not if you don't want it to."

Again, Rachel hears what Quinn is saying, without the words being explicit. She's saying, _I'm here and I'm with you, and I'm willing to stay hidden, if that's what you need, but we don't have to be; not anymore_.

The only thing Rachel can think to do is hug her, so she does. She wraps her arms around Quinn's neck and shoulders, drawing her in as close as physically possible. It takes a moment for Quinn to return the hug, her own arms circling Rachel's waist.

"I'm ready," Rachel whispers into her ear. "I'm ready, for everything."

Quinn holds her tighter. "Everything?" she asks, her voice slightly shaky.

"Every single thing."

* * *

Quinn wears an actual ball gown to the final show, and Rachel wonders if she's going to look out of place until she arrives at the theatre and sees Tyler and Cash dressed similarly formally.

It's the fanciest of evenings, apparently, with a lot of VIPs related to Tisch expected to be in attendance. There are even rumours of a few famous alumni showing up, but Rachel tries not to pay attention to any of that as she sits through hair and makeup.

She almost expects for Quinn to show up at her dressing room at this point, so she isn't surprised when Quinn slips through her door with only minutes to spare, a single gardenia - because now Rachel can recognise it for what it is - in her possession and some kind of envelope.

"How are you feeling?" Quinn asks, handing her the gardenia and brushing a hand over her back.

Rachel smiles up at her, sitting in her stool and turning to face her. "I'm okay," she answers. "A little sad it'll be over after tonight."

Quinn smiles as if she has a secret, and Rachel wants to kiss her. She thinks she would, if they weren't running out of time, and the last thing she wants to do is mess up either of their makeup. Cash would kill them.

Quinn blinks slowly, and then hands Rachel the envelope she has with her. "This is for you."

Rachel takes it from her, but doesn't move to open it. "What is it?"

"An invitation," Quinn says. "To perform at the end-of-year showcase."

"Who?"

"All of us," Quinn says. "Our final number. The moment Rae very publicly sings the words _society tells me one thing, my body another, and I can't deny my heart and my soul, in this world I must live in/tell me, tell me, how do I keep smiling behind this mask, laughing behind this facade, when her touch I crave, her love I yearn, tell me, tell me_ , and then proceeds to kiss the hell out of another girl." She breathes. "Do you have any idea how big this is? Everyone is going to be at that showcase, and we get to show two women kissing. It's - I don't even have words."

Rachel beams at her. "You did that, Quinn," she says.

"Not just me," she's quick to return. "All of us. Together. _We_ did this."

Quinn definitely isn't helping with Rachel's desire to kiss her, and she's actually relieved when Cash yells for _Places_. Quinn almost jumps, which makes them both smile.

"Good luck out there, okay?" she murmurs, touching her forehead to Rachel's for a moment. "I'll see you after."

Rachel watches her leave, forcing herself not to call Quinn back. She knows she's clingy and pathetic, but Quinn doesn't need to know that.

It's the final performance.

In some ways, it's the most important one, and Rachel doesn't feel a hint of nerves. Not one. She rather feels settled, as if this is exactly where she's supposed to be. This person she is, is exactly whom she's supposed to be.

She also has Quinn.

What is there to be nervous about?

The way that frame of mind translates into her performance is something she doesn't actively think about until she's sung her final note and the entire theatre is up on their feet, applause thundering all around them. Every night has been overwhelming in its own way, but this feels different.

This feels like the beginning of a lifetime of moments like this, where people applaud her talent, and Quinn sits in the front row, beaming with pride and eyes filled with tears.

It feels like forever.

Because it's the last night, there's a small presentation of thank yous after the production. Cash, Quinn and Tyler all step up onto the stage as Jesse introduces them, which earns another round of applause, and Rachel has never felt more proud in her entire life.

 _Her_ accomplishments barely matter in this moment, and she knows that's love. There's no other word for it, truly. The way she feels right now watching as Quinn blushes right down to her collarbones when Tyler hands her a gigantic bouquet of flowers and she manages to pull together a somewhat coherent speech to thank the department, teachers, advisors, backstage crew, musicians, composers, makeup and costume artists, other crew and finally the cast, paying special mention to Jesse, Sophia.

"And Rachel Berry," Quinn finally says, and her voice goes soft. "Who, I believe, has played the perfect Rae, almost as if the role was written specifically for her." She grins a little knowingly, and Sophia nudges Rachel conspiratorially. "I would have trusted nobody else with my beloved character."

Rachel is crying.

She's pretty sure she's crying.

The whole damn theatre is crying.

When it's all over, not only does Rachel need to change, she also needs to fix her makeup, which ends up taking a lot longer than she anticipates. She knows she's not going to look as fancy as Quinn or Cash, but she slips into a red dress, and finally makes her way to the foyer where they're throwing a small closing night party. A gala kind of thing, with all the very important people in attendance.

The champagne and conversation are all already flowing by the time she arrives, and she manages to descend the steps only slightly undetected. It's slightly overwhelming, that first wave of people, but Cash finds her eventually and carefully introduces her to the Dean, various Heads of Departments and other important people.

Rachel does her best not to lose it completely when Spike Lee - _Spike Lee_ \- compliments her performance, and she just barely holds it together when Debra Messing makes a point of making her way through the crowd just to see her.

She has to keep asking Cash to pinch her, because this is real. It's all real.

When the initial buzz dies down, she's finally able to get something to drink. It's sparkling grape juice, but she doesn't mind. She needs a breather, and her heart needs a moment to reset before it ends up beating right out of her chest.

And that's the moment she spots Mr Schuester, standing among the crowd in a tuxedo and holding a bouquet of flowers. She practically jumps in place, abandons Cash without a thought and weaves through the crowds towards him, almost giddy at the sight of him.

Mr Schuester sees her a moment later, and he lets out a laugh when she practically throws herself at him for a hug she hasn't been able to give him in a year.

"What are you doing here?" she squeals.

Mr Schuester's smile is wide when he releases her, one hand on her shoulder as he studies her. "I had to come see your first foray into stardom," he says. "I wouldn't miss it for the world. I couldn't."

"I'm so glad you're here," she says, peering around. "Are you alone? How's Miss Pillsbury?"

Mr Schuester hands her the flowers. "It's just me," he says; "but she sends her regards. I promised her pictures."

"Of course."

Rachel stays with him for a while, gushing about all sorts of things. She talks about school and the musical and Quinn and -

"Quinn, huh?"

She blushes, ignoring his obvious insinuation, and looks towards an older couple who have come to wish her well. It's been a constant stream of people coming by and complimenting and congratulating her on the performance. After encountering all the people who are basically in charge of the trajectory of her future, even meeting casual theatre goers gets her pulse running wild.

It's all so overwhelming and terrifying and it's such a big deal that all these people even know whom she is. This is just the beginning, she knows, and it's as daunting as it is exciting.

"Quinn," Mr Schuester says again, and Rachel frowns at him before she notices that he's not even looking at her. He's looking across the room, where Quinn is standing with some people who look very, very important.

They're clearly saying things that are turning her ears red, and Rachel wouldn't be able to stop her smile if she tried. Quinn looks adorable and stunning, and Rachel wants to be near her.

"We're trying again," Rachel says, keeping her eyes on Quinn. "We're trying to be together again. The right way, this time."

Mr Schuester looks at her, visibly concerned. "Does Shelby know?"

"She does," Rachel says. "She was here on opening night. She watched me perform, and the only thing she had to say was that I would pay the consequences for breaking the rules."

"The consequences?"

Rachel bites the inside of her cheek. "She told me, before I came to New York, that I would be gambling with my family and my tuition if I didn't behave." She shrugs. "I haven't been behaving."

Mr Schuester frowns. "What does that mean for you?"

"I don't really care," she says, and she means it. "Whatever happens from this point forward, I know I'll have Quinn, and that makes all the difference." She glances at him. "I get to have her, Mr Schue. I finally get to live the life I've always wanted, and I'm trying not to overthink it."

His frown fades, giving way to something proud. "I always knew you had it in you," he says. "I've always been worried, but not as much I could have been, because I _knew_ you would be okay one day."

"You think today is that day?"

"Maybe not quite yet," he allows. "It seems you might still have a way to go, but these are bold steps, and I couldn't be more proud. Not only of this new life you've decided to live, but also of your amazing talent and the way you present it, and just you. Do you have any idea how powerful you are?"

That's it.

She feels _powerful_.

As if she could decide to do something in this very moment, and she would just do it. She would accomplish it, and that would be it, because she's Rachel Berry and she's going to be the person she was always meant to be.

Nobody is going to stop her now.

Not even herself.

* * *

Quinn eventually makes her way over to them, looking a little pale. She looks shocked, really, but she manages to keep it together long enough to greet Mr Schuester, accept his compliments, and have an entire conversation about what she's been up to and just how proud they both are of Rachel without completely losing her cool.

It's literally _everything_ to Rachel, and she even risks kissing Quinn's cheek when she excuses herself once more to do some more rounds.

Mr Schuester looks so pleased that Rachel can't even stop her blush.

Finally - _finally_ \- when Mr Schuester leaves her with the question, "Are you happy?," Rachel can finally tell him _yes_!

* * *

The very important, official looking people who were speaking to Quinn turn out to be a pair of big-shot, professional producers who _want_ Quinn's script, and Quinn freaks out for a full nineteen minutes after they leave the theatre before Rachel decides the best way to shut her up is to kiss her.

"Oh," Quinn squeaks, and then she's kissing back, and Rachel forgets the entire world.

Quinn's kiss is different, but still the same, and she tastes like chocolate and champagne. Her mouth opens for Rachel, and Rachel already feels intoxicated without having touched either of those things.

Quinn starts to touch her, hands on her hips, but Rachel can feel the hesitancy in those fingers, as if she's worried she's doing something wrong in moving too fast. Rachel sucks in a breath, and then holds Quinn's hands with her own and presses them firmly against her own waist.

Quinn makes a strangled sound in the back of her throat, and Rachel is suddenly thankful they're safely in Quinn's apartment when this started. Rachel knows there's no stopping now.

Quinn says, "They want me," in wonder and disbelief. She kisses along Rachel's jaw, gently nipping at her skin. " _You_ want me."

And, God, Rachel does.

Nothing about this is taboo. They can kiss and touch and the entire world can know and it's okay.

Well, not really okay, because that's private, but the sentiment remains.

Quinn kisses her mouth again, and Rachel can practically _taste_ her wonder. This kiss is purposeful, leaving no questions about intent, but there's a part of Rachel that wonders if it's maybe wiser to wait. To establish their relationship once more. Because, they rushed the first time, and, while Rachel has few regrets about that part; that's not necessary for right now. Maybe they should just -

Quinn's hands slip down her thighs, and that thought flies out the window. She groans, long and deep, and she needs to be touching Quinn right now. Touching and tasting and breathing in and -

"Wait, wait," Quinn says, more to herself than anything. She breaks their kiss and looks into Rachel's eyes, searching for something. "I - is this - "

"I want you," Rachel assures her.

Quinn grins at her. "I got that," she says. "I haven't forgotten what turns you on."

Rachel squirms where she is, blushing.

"I just want to tell you something," Quinn says, her hands sliding around Rachel's back and holding her closer. She presses her cheek to Rachel's, and closes her eyes, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I don't want to alarm you, but this is it for me," she says. "I know it hasn't been long since - "

"Hannah," Rachel finishes for her, because that relationship is not something they're going to be able to hide away from. Especially if people are interested in Quinn's play. Hannah and Silas are going to be attached to the production forever, unless Quinn changes the music, which Rachel knows she won't do.

"I know there might be... reservations about all of this, but there is no way I will be able to live a happy, fulfilling life without being with you." She hums softly. "Maybe we won't work out; maybe we will, but I would hate myself more than I usually do if we didn't at least try. We deserve the chance to be together the right way. We just deserve a chance."

Rachel turns her head and kisses her deeply. Her own heart is pounding in her chest as she sinks into Quinn with her entire being, wanting nothing more than to be with her, tonight and every moment after.

It's been years since they've done this, and Rachel always wondered if it would feel different. Kissing Quinn. Touching her. But it doesn't feel all that different. In fact, it feels familiar; like some of memory coming back to her, and she can slide her fingers into hair that is no longer blonde and tug on a black coat that hangs off a leaner frame.

Something happens when the coat hits the floor.

Quinn pulls back to look at Rachel's face, and there is something very significant in her gaze. "Are you sure?" she asks, careful and deliberate. "We don't have to. I mean, I haven't even given you the grand tour of my place. I have an amazing coffee machine, and a top of the line blender."

And, Rachel laughs. She can't help it. It just bursts out of her, her head thrown back, and it feels as if every hateful word or thought, every struggle and fight, every question she's asked herself, every tear she's shed on her way to this moment has just melted from her body. All the tension and fear is just - it's all just gone, and she's here with Quinn and she's free.

She's free.

She's Quinn's.

"Is that your way of telling me you're going to make me a smoothie in the morning?" Rachel finds herself asking, her hands sliding over Quinn's strong shoulders.

"If you're staying."

Rachel has already decided, so she just kisses her. "I'm staying," she murmurs, and then squeals when Quinn lifts her right off the ground, her arms and legs automatically holding onto her as best they can while in her own dress.

Quinn laughs. "I promise I won't drop you," she murmurs, starting to move through the apartment to what Rachel assumes is her bedroom. She'll learn the layout another time.

Now, she intends to relearn the layout of Quinn's body.

God. Just the thought of being able to touch her and feel her makes Rachel's heart rate skyrocket alarmingly. It can't be normal. It'll fade with time, surely, because this is the first time -

This is the first time they get to be intimate without any kind of fear. None whatsoever. There's no risk of parents hearing them or hotel occupants hearing them. It's not illegal. It's just - it's just the two of them, finally getting to be together the way they've always deserved.

Quinn carries her right into a dark bedroom, right across the carpet, and then carefully sets her down on her back, immediately climbing over her and kissing her so thoroughly that there is little left to the imagination about what is about to happen between them.

Which is why it's the most surprising thing they actually don't even end up having sex.

Because Rachel does the unthinkable and actually starts to cry.

Quinn stops kissing her when she tastes the salt of her tears, and she pulls back in alarm. "Rach," she whispers. "Baby, what's wrong?"

And, it's as if the dam breaks.

When she cries, she cries for everything.

 _Everything_.

Dating all the way back to before her father, working through his disappearance, the divorce and watching her mother turn cold and guarded right before her eyes. Feeling abandoned when Shelby found Pete and started her new family, being _the other child_. Figuring out her sexual preference and knowing her mother wouldn't approve, and then being proven correct in the worst way. Resigning herself to a life without happiness, and then meeting Sarah and Quinn and allowing herself to hope. Immersing herself in possible what ifs, and then having her entire world turned upside down by a homophobic prick with a heart full of hate and having to face the consequences of her actions. Watching the love of her life unravel and suffer at her hands, and then agreeing to a set of rules designed to bring her only misery. Wading through high school with no spirit, determined to get out and as far as possible. Finding her way through a new environment, figuring out ways to be happy without breaking the rules… and then getting hit in the face with a blast from her past so overwhelming that the tears return so potently that Quinn visibly panics.

There are hands stroking her hair and lips against her skin, murmuring _it's okay, you're okay, I promise everything is going to be okay now_.

Because Rachel is here, and she's suffered through watching Quinn work her scriptwriter magic and witnessing her be with someone else, just to realise she's still in love with her - because of course she is - and that life is never not going to suck.

And, now, with a very single, very in love Quinn Fabray lying at her side, who is ready to _touch_ her; Rachel is _crying_.

For God's sake.

Can she just get it together?

Quinn gently kisses her cheek. "I have you," she murmurs. "I swear, I have you."

For some reason, Quinn's words make her smile, and she lets out a choked laugh at the fact this girl is such a writer.

Quinn lifts her head, looking a little bemused at the sound of Rachel's laughter. "Everything okay there, Superstar?"

Rachel traces a finger over Quinn's left eyebrow. "I am so in love with you," she murmurs, watching the movement of her finger. "I barely know what to do with myself."

"Well, I mean, I'm pretty sure I could think of a few things you could do with yourself," Quinn says, with such a shit-eating grin across her face. "I could even help."

Rachel tugs her head down for a long kiss, but the initial heat has faded into something mellow, meaningful in a way that has Quinn eventually getting to her feet and rummaging in her drawers for sweatpants and t-shirts for them both.

Rachel lifts herself onto her elbows to watch as Quinn kicks off her heels and carefully unzips her dress, her back to the bed. The room is dark, the only light coming in through the drawn curtains, but Rachel can still see the lines of muscle on her back as the dress slides down her body and settles in a pool at her feet.

Quinn steps out of it and quickly redresses, before she turns to face Rachel and says, "You can wear these, if you'd like. Would you like some cocoa? I have soy milk."

Rachel blinks at her.

Quinn flushes darkly, and then sets the clothes on the bed. "I'll be in the kitchen whenever you're ready," she says, and then disappears from the room without another word.

Rachel doesn't move, fully able to hear Quinn padding around outside. It still feels like a dream, and she fears that walking out there right now is going to shatter it. What if Quinn changes her mind? What if Rachel can't figure out how to _do_ any of this? Quinn has already been so patient and thoughtful, and they've waited so long for this moment, and she doesn't want to be the one to -

"Hey."

Rachel's eyes snap to the left, to see Quinn entering the room, two cups in her hands.

"Have you even moved?" Quinn asks, looking a little amused as she sets the cups on her nightstand, careful not to spill anything. Then she reaches for Rachel's hands and pulls her right to her feet, laughing at the groan the brunette lets out.

Rachel has more complaints on the tip of her tongue, but then Quinn is unzipping her dress, and all words fail her. It's not sexy - okay, it is a little - but Quinn is very thorough as she undresses, and then redresses Rachel so they're matching in t-shirts, sweatpants and bare feet. Then she holds Rachel's head in her hands and softly kisses her forehead.

"I love you," Quinn says, and it's as if Rachel's worries vanish with the sound of those words.

Rachel looks right into Quinn's eyes, searching for something and _finding it_. "It's never been temporary, has it?"

Quinn just draws her into a hug, holding her as if she's something precious. "Never," she echoes in a whisper, and Rachel believes her.

* * *

In the morning, Quinn sets a tall glass of purple smoothie in front of her, kisses the top of her head and says, "I have to go to church in a few minutes."

Rachel just stares at her, because that is the absolute last thing she was expecting to hear when she woke up with Quinn's warm body wrapped around her own, still clothed and only a little disappointed about it.

"I know," Quinn says with a roll of her eyes. "But I found a good one, and it helps me."

Rachel nods, accepting it for what it is.

"I don't know if you have plans for the day," Quinn says, suddenly looking nervous. "Of course, you're welcome to stay here - I'll be two hours, tops - or you could even come with. But, I mean, if you have somewhere to be or something to do, I - I would still like to see you later, maybe, if you're free."

Rachel slides off her stool and moves right into Quinn's space, crowding her against one of the counters. She leans the front of her body against Quinn's, tilting her head right up to be able to look into her eyes. "I would love to come with you one day," she says softly. "But maybe not today."

Quinn nods, accepting.

"I think I'll head to my dorm for a while. I need to shower and change and possibly deal with my phone, and I know Liz is probably dying for some kind of update on us."

Quinn grins a little knowingly.

"I also need to complete some funding applications," she says, frowning slightly. "I think the rest of the year is covered, but I need to make plans for next year if I want to stay in school, and there are suddenly a lot more deadlines I need to meet."

Quinn looks to her left, gently gnawing on her bottom lip. "I can help, you know," she says quietly. "If you'll let me."

"Quinn."

She shakes her head. "Before you say no, just hear me out, okay?"

Rachel sighs, but manages a nod.

"If it's tuition you're worried about, we can do that together," she says. "I've secured funding for myself already, and, even though my mother hated me, she still sent me money every month, so, you know, I kind of have a a pretty decent savings going for myself." She runs a hand through her hair. "We could also save on living expenses if you just lived here."

Rachel gasps.

Quinn still won't look at her. "Table that for now, if you're uncomfortable, but please consider it an option if housing becomes a problem," she says quickly. "I just want to make your life easier. I want to - God, I just want to give you the world, and I have - this a way I can do that. I just - I don't want you to have to worry about the things you don't have to, okay?" She finally, finally looks at Rachel. "This isn't something you will ever have to do on your own ever again, okay? I am here. You have me. All of me. For forever."

And, this is it, isn't it?

This is Lucy Quinn Fabray, standing in her kitchen and telling her, with absolute certainty, that this love they have is permanent. It's forever and ever, the two of them meant to be in all the best - and maybe even in all the worst - ways.

This love they've shared, over all these years, was always meant to last. Prevail, through all the hardships, strife, prejudice, and time and distance apart. They've been tested in so many ways, and here they still are. Just a girl, standing in front of another girl, and telling her they can have it all.

Rachel is damn well going to believe her.

* * *

Liz _is_ waiting for her, smile a little too knowing and eyes a little too wide, when Rachel finally gets back to her dorm. She's still wearing Quinn's clothes, her own stuffed into her bag slung over her shoulder.

"You didn't come home last night," Liz says once Rachel has closed the door behind her, and her voice is practically layered with suggestion. "I tried calling, but your phone is off or something?"

Rachel drops her bag on the carpet and moves to sit on Liz's bed. "Or something," she murmurs.

Liz gives her a long look. "I figured you'd be more excited about spending the night with Quinn," she says. "Didn't you get any action?"

Rachel gasps softly, and then swats at her arm. "Liz!"

"What?" she asks, all innocence. "As your roommate, it's in my job description to ask." She grins at her. "It's been three years, Rachel."

Rachel sighs, and then drops onto her back. "Believe me, I'm aware of how long it's been."

"So, what's the problem?"

"There's no problem," she says, and she means it. Maybe that _is_ the problem. They've never really just been allowed to _be_ together, and it's somewhat terrifying. Sure, there's the whole cutoff from her family thing and possible lack of tuition to face, and possible hit to her own promising career, but she has Quinn and finally - _finally_ \- they can live out all the plans Quinn has had for them.

"Then why do you look as if your world is ending?"

"I'm never going to see my family again," she says, and Liz freezes. "I - I always knew it was a possibility, and obviously I'm always going to choose Quinn in this scenario, but I - "

Liz won't _get_ it, Rachel reasons, but her roommate still reaches for her closest hand and just holds it. "That's all a lot to deal with," she says, sounding sympathetic for just a moment before she very suddenly says, "but, seriously, Rach, it's been _three years_ , and that girl is so fucking hot. Why haven't you jumped her bones already?"

Rachel laughs, loud and happy, because her roommate is an idiot. She takes a moment to sit up and look Liz in the eyes. "She basically asked me to live with her."

Liz's smile slips a little. "Oh," she murmurs. "You're leaving me."

"I didn't tell her yes."

"You'd be even more of an idiot than I think you are if you don't," Liz says; "and I ain't raised no idiot."

Rachel regards her closely. "Thank you," she says.

Liz frowns. "For what?"

Rachel doesn't think she'll ever truly be able to explain what Liz has done for her, even without trying, so she's not bothered to try. Instead, she just asks, "So, you on to _New Moon_ yet?" and Liz lets out a long-suffering groan.

* * *

Quinn looks like a nervous puppy when she shows up at Rachel's room several hours later, and Liz invites her inside with the kind of smile that would probably terrify her if she weren't a Fabray.

Rachel is sitting on the edge of her bed and lacing up her left boot, and Quinn's heart stutters at the sight of her, right there, in the flesh.

She's real.

All of this, it's _real_.

Rachel eventually looks up at her, a smile spreading across her face. "There you are," she says.

"Here I am," Quinn says, rather stupidly, if you were to ask her.

Liz snorts in amusement, and Quinn flushes in embarrassment, but Rachel's smile just grows as she slowly gets to her feet and crosses the small room towards her.

"Hi," Rachel breathes, reaching a hand up to cup her left cheek.

Quinn leans into her touch. "Ready for some lunch?"

Rachel just stares at her for another slice of forever, and then forces herself to nod. "Let me just grab my coat," she says.

Quinn watches her as she moves, unashamed and so deeply in love and happiness that she doesn't even care that Rachel's roommate finds her ridiculous and amusing. She can work on her HBIC reputation later. Right now, she just wants to stare at the beautiful girl in front of her, because, God, she's finally allowed to.

Everything they've been through has basically led to this moment, right here, where Rachel pats all her pockets to make sure she has everything she needs, and then runs her hands through her hair to fluff it up before turning knowing, chestnut eyes on Quinn and saying, "I'm ready."

Quinn's breath catches in her throat, because she just knows those words refer to something other than the lunch they're about to have. She blinks once, twice, and then breathes, "Yeah?"

Rachel crosses the tiny space towards her and presses the softest kiss to her cheek, slipping their hands together. "I'm ready for everything," she confirms, voice certain.

Still, Quinn can't resist saying, "Promise?" because she just needs to hear the words.

Rachel's face twists slightly, before it settles into something soft and open, a tiny smile on her lips. "I promise," she declares, and they both know this is one promise she's definitely going to be able to keep.

The Universe be damned.

* * *

 **AN** : Epilogue shortly to follow.


	18. Epilogue

**EPILOGUE**

Early on, Quinn and Rachel decide there are only two reasons they would ever return to Ohio: Mr Schuester and Rachel's brothers.

When they do first return, _together_ , it is for neither of those reasons, and it is both heartbreaking and an offer of closure. So many years later.

* * *

The first time Quinn returns, she flies without Rachel the summer after she graduates to help Sarah officially pack up the house when Judy decides her best course of action is to move to Boston permanently, to be closer to her daughters and some of the best healthcare available.

At the time, Quinn's adapted show of 'Said Too Much' has been steadily making waves on Off-Broadway, but she takes the time to do this one thing that her mother asks of her.

She and Sarah still have a rocky relationship at best, and Quinn suspects her mother sends them together because she wants them to work things out. It's been more than a year since Quinn and Rachel even started dating again, and Sarah can't seem to get over whatever she claims is so wrong with the pairing... that she's convinced destroyed her family.

"The only things that tore apart our family were intolerance and prejudice," Quinn tells her while they're packing family pictures into boxes. Quinn isn't in any of the frames, and she doesn't expect it still to hurt as much as it does. She's aware she hasn't been a part of this family in years, but the evidence of it is still a little heartbreaking.

She suddenly misses Rachel so acutely, and she wishes she could have come with them, but Rachel is actually working in the Chorus of 'Said Too Much,' and acting as first Understudy for Rae, who is being played by an up-and-coming, established actress.

It was a little strange witnessing someone other than Rachel take the mantle, but they were realistic about her chances of landing the role once Quinn reworked the script to include more truths of the struggle of the relationships and, essentially, creating the masterpiece that already has Broadway buzz.

So, Rachel is in New York, and Quinn is in the childhood home she's come to hate with the sister she still knows doesn't understand her, and she sometimes hates that she let her mother convince her to do this.

Sarah doesn't say anything in response to Quinn's point, but Quinn knows she accepts it as truth. She does ask, "Was it worth it?"

"What?"

"Getting to be with her? Even in secret."

Quinn faces her fully. "Every second," she answers truthfully. "I was happier in every moment with her than I ever was in our home."

"Ever?" Sarah asks. "Even with me?"

And, Quinn thinks this is the maybe the moment she gets it. "Is that what this is about?" she asks. "That because I chose Rachel, I wasn't choosing you?"

"Isn't that what happened?"

"What happened is you threatened her with telling our parents about us to keep her away from me," Quinn points out, and Sarah flinches. "It never should have come to that, and you know it. So, please, you have to stop blaming me or Rachel for the decisions you, mom and Dad made that brought this family to its knees. We're never going to get anywhere if you can't accept the role you played just as much as the roles Rachel and I played."

Sarah clenches her jaw. "You left me."

"No, Sarah," Quinn says, and she's suddenly so exhausted; just so tired of repeatedly having the same fight with someone who won't understand. "That's where you're remembering it wrong. _You_ left _me_."

* * *

Rachel's first trip back to Ohio is also made with only Sarah for Mr Schuester's wedding when she's a junior in college. It's a small affair that barely manages to happen, given all the drama behind it. Rachel can't even describe the horror of witnessing an actual runaway bride and the devastation of seeing how heartbroken Mr Schuester looks when he realises Miss Pillsbury isn't going to be walking down the aisle towards him.

"Is it us?" Sarah asks around a jalapeño popper as they sit in the reception space, waiting for news on whether the wedding is still going to happen or not. "Are we bad luck or something?"

Rachel looks up from her phone where she's been texting Quinn with unfortunate updates about the events of the day. "How many weddings have you been to that didn't work out?"

"This is the third."

Rachel's eyes widen. "How is that even possible?"

"I've been to a lot of weddings," Sarah answers with a shrug. "Probability would have that it would happen eventually."

"Shut up with your science," she mutters, looking back at her phone when it vibrates in her hand.

"What's Quinn saying?"

Rachel smiles at merely the sound of Quinn's name. "Apparently, Jesse is driving her up the wall at rehearsal," she conveys Quinn's message, referring to the show she's currently workshopping with Jesse as one of her leads. Rachel's sure Quinn regrets every second since she agreed to the casting.

It'll be her second go at a show on Broadway, even while 'Said Too Much' is still enjoying a strong run. There's even talk of expanding the show to the West End, and even taking it on the road. Her girlfriend is super busy, and Mr Schuester was understanding when Quinn called to say she couldn't get time off to make it.

Turns out, she's not missing much.

"As he is wont to do," Sarah says, grinning. "He's like the annoying brother she deserves, really."

"God, he can get so under her skin; it's a gift I wish I had."

"I can teach you a thing or two," Sarah says. "I know exactly which buttons to push."

Rachel glances at her. "I'm aware," she says, her voice losing its ease. "I wish you wouldn't, though."

Sarah sighs. "I know," she says. "Sometimes, I just can't help it. It's like I'm genetically wired to be antagonistic about certain things. And, I mean, I'm her kid sister; isn't it written in the rule books that I'm supposed to give her shit about her partner and basically every choice she's ever made?"

"Not when you once claimed it was those supposed choices that effectively tore your family apart," Rachel responds patiently. "Even though she won't show it to you, it still hurts her, and I think she's been hurt enough, don't you?"

Sarah breathes deeply. "Do you think that's why she's been so hesitant to meet Justin?"

Rachel laughs. "The boyfriend you've had for three weeks?"

"Don't laugh," Sarah pouts. "I swear he's the one."

Rachel just continue to smile as she sends a response back to Quinn, suddenly desperate to get back to her as soon as possible.

* * *

Quinn's next trip to Ohio is, once again, made with only Sarah, who was more than eager to accompany Quinn to visit Mr Schuester and Miss Pillsbury - they did finally get married - and their newborn son.

Rachel is currently performing on the West End, headlining as Rae in 'Said Too Much,' and she literally cried to Quinn that she won't be able to see little Daniel Schuester for at least another three months as she completes the remaining time on her year-long contract. Quinn promised her pictures, and she also expects the baby fever to hit them hard.

Well.

First marriage, right?

Sarah bounces in her seat throughout the flight and subsequent drive to Mr Schuester's house. She's visibly excited, and Quinn reasons it's probably because she's been stuck doing clinical practicals for an endless number of weeks now. Sarah definitely needs some sun.

"Don't you find it weird that Mr Schuester made Rachel his son's godmother?" Sarah asks as they're entering Lima. Not much has changed, but she didn't expect anything else.

"Only one of them," Quinn says. "And, no, I don't think it's weird at all. Mr Schuester is important to her, and she's important to them, as a couple and individually."

Sarah nods. "Oh, they totally wouldn't have got married without Rachel helping Mr Schuester realise Miss P couldn't handle the big wedding."

"Sometimes, you just need someone to point something out to you, even though you already know the truth of it."

"The way I'm about to point out that you've been extra prickly since you got back from London," Sarah says, giggling at her own joke.

Quinn glances at her. "At least I _have_ sex."

"Gross," Sarah says, pulling a face. "And that's just mean. I have sex."

"What ever happened to Ricky?"

"Don't even mention that idiot."

"I thought he was the one," Quinn says, doing a terrible imitation of Sarah's voice.

"You mock me, but not everyone finds their soulmates at my age, you know?"

"I found mine at seventeen," Quinn points out.

"Well, yeah, you're a special case or whatever," she says, waving a hand rather dramatically. "And, I mean, if you've found your forever love, where's the ring, huh?"

Quinn side-eyes her, and then very calmly says, "In my bag."

"Whoa!" Sarah gasps. "Seriously?"

Quinn nods. "I want to talk about it to Mr Schuester, but, yes, seriously."

"You're going to ask Rachel to marry you?"

"I am," Quinn confirms, and she's never sounded so serious about something the way she does this. There's a certain maturity in her voice that they've both never heard when she speaks about Rachel before. "I've always known there's nothing temporary about what we have," she says; "I think it's time I make sure the rest of the world knows, as well."

* * *

The next time Rachel returns to Ohio is, again, with only Sarah, who is all too happy to take a weekend off of all the mundane scut work surgical interns are dumped with.

Rachel books the trip after she receives an unexpected and panicked call from Matthew in the middle of the night, her brother in tears and sounding hysterical, and she gets on the first flight to Columbus, taking Sarah when she can't take a heavily pregnant Quinn instead.

Sarah isn't as much as a calming influence as Quinn would be, but she chatters away the entire trip, which Rachel appreciates in a different way. She doesn't know what she's expecting when she finally arrives in Akron, but she checks into a hotel, calls her brother to tell him she's here and -

Rachel doesn't expect to cry at the sight of him. Seventeen years old, tall and broad, with sharp eyes and a defined jaw. He's no longer that eight-year-old with wide eyes and resentment in his very being, and Rachel feels lost and guilty and so angry that she's missed so much.

"Rachel," he says, his voice cracking, and she pulls him into a hug where she has to reach up instead of down, and she is heartbroken.

Rachel orders him a cheeseburger and a milkshake from room service and watches him guzzle it down, barely chewing, and she would wonder if he was being starved if he didn't look so healthy.

"You're married," Matthew says around a bite of his burger, eyes on the wedding set on her ring finger.

Rachel looks down at the platinum bands for a moment. "I am," she confirms. "We've just celebrated two years."

Matthew suddenly looks scared.

"You can ask me if you want to."

"Mom doesn't like us to talk about you or ask about you," he says. "It's like you just stopped existing, and - and I didn't understand why she would just... erase you."

Rachel likes to think she's moved on from the rejection of her family, but it still stings in ways Quinn has always understood. "She doesn't agree with the life I've chosen to live," she explains.

"Because you married a woman," Matthew states rather than asks, and Rachel realises he already knows.

Rachel nods. "I married Quinn," she says. "Do you remember her?"

"Sarah's sister."

Rachel smiles softly. "Sarah's actually here with me, probably wrecking havoc somewhere or getting drunk," she says. "Quinn is back in New York." She pauses, contemplating her next words. "We're expecting our first child in the next few weeks, so she couldn't travel."

Matthew's eyes widen and he stops eating. "You're having a baby?"

She nods, her smile growing.

"I'm going to be an uncle?"

Rachel blinks at the sound of the words, because it's not something she's actually allowed herself to think about. "Ultimately, yes."

Matthew abandons his food then, and leans back in the armchair he's claimed. He suddenly looks thoughtful, and Rachel can only imagine what had him so distressed he decided to call _her_ after so many years with no contact.

Rachel waits, ever patient.

Matthew clears his throat. "Do you think Mom will do the same thing to me when she finds out?"

Rachel stiffens. "When she finds out what?"

Matthew can barely look at her when he says, "That I like boys."

Rachel breathes out slowly, unsure what to say in response.

"I - I kind of knew, but it was just in the back of my mind. I didn't realise it wasn't normal not to be overly interested in girls or want to hook up with them or whatever, but then - " he stops and flushes darkly. "There's this guy," he says. "The entire thing confused the hell out of me, because I sent him a text about a school project, and then I waited for a reply like a complete idiot, and freaked the fuck out when I figured out the way I was watching my phone wasn't normal."

And, honestly, Rachel doesn't think she's ever heard Matthew say so many words to her, let alone at all. It's the first time she realises she knows next to nothing about him, but, God, she's missed him so much.

"It's like the floodgates opened," he explains. "I don't - I had a whole breakdown about it. Ethan thinks I just failed a test, which, yeah, might produce the same result, but - " he stops abruptly and suddenly looks so young. "What if I'm gay?"

Rachel shifts forward in her seat. "Is that how you would identify yourself?"

"I don't know," he says. "Wouldn't I just know? Isn't that something I should just know?"

"Not always," she answers him, her tone soft. "Sexuality is different for everyone. It can be fluid in many ways. The way you identify doesn't require some kind of label, but sometimes it helps."

"I know that I like Simon."

Rachel can't help her smile, and Matthew blushes, ducking his head. "Simon," she says.

Matthew shakes his head, his smile automatic. "I don't even know if he's interested, but we've kind of been talking, and I - " he stops, his smile slipping away. "Nothing can happen, right? I don't - I can't just - "

Rachel closes her eyes, because she can't handle the stricken look on his handsome face. "It might be different for you," she says. "Her views might have changed. You're older than I was. She loves you more."

Matthew makes a strangled sound.

Rachel opens her eyes. "We all know it's true," she says. "It might be different for you," she repeats. "Better, or worse."

"Because she'll double down on a second child of hers being gay?"

"If you are."

He smiles ever so slightly. "I wish I'd been older when this was all happening with you," he says. "I wish I could have understood it better; that I could have told you I didn't care."

Rachel knows she shouldn't, but she still says, "I've been gone nine years, Matthew."

He leans back even further and sighs. "By the time I realised, I thought it was too late," he says. "Wasn't it always going to be too late?"

Rachel shakes her head, thinking hard about the reasons Sarah and Judy returned to Quinn's life. Something happened, and then they called. Something's happened to Matthew, and now he's called.

_When_ doesn't even matter.

"Whatever you decide, I'm willing to help," Rachel says. "If you need to figure things out, I have some friends who could help by talking it out with you. If you want to tell Shelby, or if you don't. If you want to discuss options. Hell, even if you want to come to New York for a few days in the summer. We'll figure it out."

Matthew stares at her with wide eyes. "You would really do that for me?"

"Of course."

"But why?" he asks. "Don't you hate me?"

"Why on earth would you think that?"

Matthew fiddles with the zipper of his hooded jacket. "I sometimes hated you."

Rachel sighs. "That isn't news to me, Matty."

His gaze snaps up. "Nobody's called me that in a long time," he says. "It's just Matt these days."

Rachel shakes her head. "You'll always be Matty to me."

Matthew allows them to sit in silence for a long, long while, before he very shyly asks, "Can I tell you about Simon?"

"Of course," she answers with zero hesitation, and it's the start of something.

* * *

The next time Quinn even risks a trip to Ohio is after she receives a call from Lana Chapman (nee Puckerman). It catches her way off guard, and she almost hangs up the moment she introduces herself on the other end of the line.

The woman says, "He's back in Lima these days. I'm sure he would love to see you."

Quinn says nothing in response.

"He's stubborn, Quinn," Lana tells her. "And too damn proud. He wants to see you, I know he does, because he won't shut up about the fact he hasn't seen anyone from his past yet."

It's basically Puck speak, she knows. If he's back in Lima, then he must be okay with possibly seeing her again. Even possibly _wants_ to see her.

Rachel tells her to go. She'll stay home with their eight-month-old. "This is something we both know you need to do," she says. "Take Sarah. Maybe you can talk some sense into her about that idiot, James."

Quinn rolls her eyes, calls her sister, and then books two tickets to Columbus; hers from New York and Sarah's from Boston. Sarah's complaints of _my salary is balls and you're the one who makes the big bucks_ just make her roll her eyes.

Lima isn't different to what she remembers. Still an old, sleepy town, and Sarah gets weirdly excited when they drive through familiar streets.

"Do any of your friends still live around here?" Quinn asks as she steers the rental car towards the address Lana sent her. It's Puck's workplace, because she's definitely not about to show up at his home.

"Not really," Sarah says, looking out the window. "Mike and Tina, only, as far as I know." She fiddles with the hem of her shirt. "And Biff, I guess."

Quinn's grip tightens on the steering wheel. "Do you still talk to him?" she asks, visibly tense.

"No," Saran answers. "Just see his updates on _Facebook_. He married some blonde woman who's popped out something like five children already."

Quinn glances at her. "Not Katherine Wilde, I hope?"

"Nope," she says. "I don't even know what happened to her."

"Marley Rose?"

"Wow, now, _that's_ a name I haven't heard in a long time," she says. "She was sweet."

"Any idea where she is?"

"Nope."

Quinn wonders if she should even bother to check. It's been so long; it's doubtful any of them even remember her.

Well.

She's sure she was the talk of the church town for quite some time, but she cut ties quite effectively back then. Deleted social media and put up some nifty privacy settings when she decided to rebuild her social presence an entire year later.

Now, well, she's famous in her own right, and she honestly doesn't care who knows who she is, at this point. Professionally, her name is out there, famous scriptwriter and producer, and critical novelist. Really, she couldn't have asked for anything better when it comes to her career.

It's her personal life that's always had its hiccups. Beyond finding and finally _keeping_ hold of Rachel, a lot of her other relationships have suffered in some ways. Even her ones with Santana and Brittany, who now live in San Francisco, where Santana is plying her trade as an Assistant District Attorney.

It's just the distance between them, Quinn knows, but she _misses_ them something fierce.

"Maybe you should find out," Quinn suggests, just because.

Sarah doesn't look convinced, but she still says, "Maybe," just as they're pulling up in front of a pool supplies store. Pool services. Pool everything, apparently.

Once Quinn manoeuvres into a parking spot and turns off the ignition, she doesn't move. Not for a long, long time. Sarah tries to keep as still as possible, but she's not very good at it, and the way she fidgets eventually coaxes a smile out of Quinn, and then they're both getting out of the rental car.

They haven't actually talked about it, so Sarah asks, "Do you want to go first?"

Quinn tells her no, because she doesn't think she's brave enough. She and Sarah have lived vastly different lives, and Quinn has gone through quite a bit without her, but this moment is not going to be one of them. No. Today, her sister is going to stand by her side, and it's something she's always wanted.

Quinn doesn't expect to cry, but she does.

Puck does, too.

Sarah, obviously, as well, but she leaves them alone to talk after a few minutes, claiming she saw a book store around the corner and ducking out without another word.

Puck gives Quinn a very significant look and says, "So, you're a lesbian, huh?"

Quinn laughs, and then hops up onto the counter, kicking her legs like she's still a hopeless teenager. "Man, have I got a story to tell you."

* * *

Rachel's next trip is solo and rather impromptu. She doesn't even mean to go, but there's something in the way Matthew says, "I'm finally getting out of here," that has her getting on a plane to watch him walk the stage as Valedictorian from behind the bleachers of the gym of a school she told herself she would never return to.

Carmel is different to William McKinley, and there are, thankfully, few demons around each and every corner. She just wanted to lay eyes on her brothers; to make sure of _something_. She's not sure what, but something manages to settle in the pit of her stomach when she does.

She doesn't hang around long enough to see either Matthew or Ethan, and she definitely isn't going to risk bumping into her mother. She would happily go her entire life without laying eyes on that woman, and she walks right back out of that school with renewed purpose.

In the parking lot, she stand for a little while, just taking it all in. She feels both heavy and light, and she thinks she might like to bring Quinn here, one day, just to show her that, even when they were apart, Quinn was always with her.

Speaking of Quinn.

Rachel's phone vibrates in her hand, and she briefly panics that someone might have seen her, but it's just Quinn sending a selfie of herself and her tiny mini-me, who is engulfed in a fluffy white towel, both of them looking miserable.

**My Wife** : _I know you claim Olivia is my daughter when she does cute things, but whose daughter is she when she poops in the bathtub?_

Rachel laughs, loud and happy.

It's magical, this feeling blooming in her chest. Maybe she shouldn't have come, sure, but she's suddenly glad she did. Her brothers are both eighteen now, and it _means something_ that they can both get safely out, if they need to.

Especially Matthew.

Rachel glances down at her phone and sends off a quick text.

_Still yours, my love_ 💓

* * *

Quinn's next stop in Ohio is also made alone, and it barely lasts six hours. She's just in and out of Akron, to pick up a devastated Matthew Henderson.

The call comes while Rachel is watching their four-year-old build _Lego_ that could be a dragon if one looked from a very particular angle. She doesn't generally use her phone when she's spending time with Olivia, but she reaches for it anyway.

It's Matthew calling, except it's Ethan on the phone, and the words he says are heartbreaking.

_Mom knows. Matt's unresponsive. I don't know what to do_.

Quinn flies out of LaGuardia two hours later, Rachel knowing she'll probably strangle Shelby if she was allowed anywhere near her. Quinn is more levelheaded about these things, and they have a plan.

Shelby wants Matthew gone, so he's going to go.

He's going to come to a home that accepts him for exactly the person he is.

Quinn arrives at the house just after eight o'clock, where Ethan tells her Matthew is in his room packing his things, and their parents are out.

Ethan looks lost and confused, and Quinn doesn't immediately go into the house. She rather hovers by the front door, wondering if she's looking at the indecision Sarah went through when it was her in Matthew's place. Ethan knows the family he's known is falling apart, and there's literally nothing he can do.

Well.

There are things he _can_ do, but nobody would want him to.

"Matthew's going to be okay," Quinn tells him. "Maybe not today or tomorrow, but he's going to be fine."

Ethan's bottom lip trembles. "Promise?"

"I promise," Quinn says, and she vows to do all she can to keep it. "Now, why don't you take me to him, and we can get out of here before your parents get back and I break my promise to your sister and actually punch someone?"

* * *

Rachel makes a trip to Ohio alone, but not quite, when she plays two shows in Cincinnati. It's been years since she's stepped foot in the state, and she tries not to let her memories of it bother her.

It's been two months of her solo US leg already, and she misses home quite desperately. She misses Quinn and the kids, aching with the desire to hold them in her arms and shower them in kisses.

It helps that they'll be in New York soon, though, but she has to perform for a paying crowd here first, and her fans are important. They've always been, and it doesn't matter what state she's in.

It helps that Ethan is coming to see her, as well. They don't talk very often, but they've managed to build something significant in the years since Matthew went to live with them. It was only for a few short years, before he got a job in Washington D.C. and moved into his own place, but her brothers are very important to her in her older life.

She's getting old.

With several Grammys and Tonys under her belt, she knows it must be true. One look at Ethan and it has to be. He's twenty-four now, wide-eyed and genuinely happy to see her. He wasn't always, so she holds onto these moments as closely as possible.

Ethan's always been the more talkative brother, chattering in a way that reminds Rachel of Sarah. He tells her about work and his friends and this girl he thinks he might be interested in, but he carefully avoids anything about their parents.

Rachel isn't interested, anyway.

"Have you spoken to Matt about Kyle yet?" Ethan asks, sipping his coffee. "Because that dude is bad news, Rach. Like, the baddest."

Rachel smiles at him, marvelling at how he's grown so much. "Quinn's taking care of it," is what she says, and Ethan winces.

"Your wife is fucking scary," Ethan comments, which, yeah, is accurate. "How is she? How are Olive and Rosie?"

"They're good," Rachel says. "Driving Quinn crazy, of course. Olivia has an endless amount of questions, constantly asking about anything and everything, and Rose just wants to do whatever her big sister does. They're adorable menaces."

Ethan laughs. "This is why you should have a boy."

Rachel hums in thought. "We've been thinking about it," she reveals. "I would carry this time, because Quinn claims she is so over _cankles_."

Ethan grins at her. "That would be amazing, Rach," he says. "Try for a boy, please."

"And if we end up with a girl?"

"Who could say no to another princess?"

Rachel just smiles and says, "You should come up for a visit."

Ethan immediately nods. "I'll work on getting some time off," he agrees. "I'm definitely missing my nieces."

* * *

"You know, for someone who swore she wasn't ever going to return to Ohio when she left, you sure do make a habit of it," Sarah says, and Quinn flicks her arm from where she's seated beside her, the two of them waiting for the ceremony to start.

Quinn didn't think this day would ever arrive, really, but here she is, about to watch Noah Puckerman finally - finally - tie the knot.

He asked her to be his best _person_ , but she declined. Even she isn't blind enough not to know that would have been a terrible idea, given he's never really been able to hide the fact there will always be a part of him that loved her first.

She knows. He knows, and his dear, dear bride knows as well.

So, Quinn said no, and she sits perfectly content in the fifth row with Sarah to her left, and Santana and Brittany to her right, the latter trying to keep their son sitting still. It's a futile attempt, of course, and Brittany has to get up and walk him to the dedicated 'wedding care' for the duration of the ceremony and reception.

Santana leans over to whisper, "Didn't I already tell her it was pointless to try to make him sit through this?"

Quinn chuckles. "We both know Britt can't say no to him."

"And he knows it," she grumbles, though she's smiling.

Quinn takes out her phone then, ready to snap pictures as Rachel instructed her to. She really doesn't want to deal with a grumpy wife if she shows up empty-handed.

"How's _your_ boy?" Santana asks after a moment.

"Hmm? Oh, he's good, totally enjoying keeping Rachel on bed rest," Quinn answers, smiling automatically, even if it's always tinged with concern at how difficult this pregnancy has been for them. "Rach is convinced he's going to be a dancer from the kicking going on in there."

"Of course she would jump right to dancer," Santana says, clearly amused. "Not soccer?"

Quinn laughs. "I think she wants just one kid to show interest in what she does," she says. "Olivia is very into her soccer, and Rosie is into whatever Olive is. Rachel both loves and hates it."

"Winning."

Quinn bumps her shoulder with her own. "We miss you guys, you know?"

"I know."

Quinn says nothing more, diverting her attention to the altar. Puck is looking at her with slightly frightened eyes, and she flashes him a reassuring smile. It seems to settle him, for some reason, and she feels the guilt she's been carrying around for years lessen just a bit.

Look at where they are.

Look at what they've accomplished.

Sarah pinches her arm, and Quinn lets out a muted yelp. "Oh, my God," she says.

"What?"

"The best man is so fucking hot," Sarah tells her, and Quinn rolls her eyes.

"You are not hooking up with the best man," Quinn tells her, which is futile, really, because Sarah is going to do whatever she wants, and Quinn is going to have to deal with the aftermath later.

"Whatever, _Mom_ ," Sarah grumbles, and they both sober at the mention of their mother, who has deteriorated rapidly in the last few years.

Quinn rests a hand on Sarah's leg and gives it a squeeze. "If anything," she murmurs; "I think you'd have better luck with the maid of honour."

* * *

"I still don't know why you thought tricking me into coming to Lima with you was a good idea," Rachel grumbles, more irritated with herself for actually allowing herself to be dragged to this stupid town

"Well, I couldn't exactly bring Quinn with me," Sarah says, fidgeting rather nervously in her seat.

"And why is that?" Rachel asks, suddenly curious.

"Because she'll never let me live this down."

"Live what down?"

Sarah doesn't say anything for a long, long time, and Rachel starts to think she's not getting a response. But then Sarah says, "I'm visiting someone."

"Okay…?"

"My… uh, I guess you would say my significant other," Sarah says, quiet and confidential.

Rachel holds her breath, because this feels very important. And, add on the fact Sarah is effectively choosing _her_ to tell first, before her sister. It has to be something monumental. "Is - is this _the one_ , Sarah?" Rachel asks.

Sarah blinks, carefully rounding a bend in the road. "Yes," she finally says. "I know I've said that a lot about so many people, but this is it, Rachel." She sounds as if she's pleading with Rachel to believe her. "We met at Puck's wedding," she explains. "Well, we _re_ -met, and it's kind of all Quinn's fault, so, you know, if I end up heartbroken or something, it's her fault for putting all sorts of ideas in my head."

Rachel frowns. "Ideas about what?"

"I - I don't actually mean that," Sarah says, sighing. "I just - I guess I've maybe figured out why all my relationships haven't worked out in the past. Like, at all. Ever."

Rachel's frown deepens. "Because you were waiting for the right guy?"

Sarah shakes her head, and then quietly reveals, "Because I wasn't waiting for a _guy_ at all."

Rachel's expression twists into confusion, right before it settles into one of realisation. "Oh."

Sarah hums. "Oh."

There's an extended beat of silence, and then Rachel bursts out laughing. She can't help it. It's just - who would have thought?

"Stop it," Sarah says, trying to hold in her own laughter. "It's not funny."

"Oh, my God," Rachel wheezes, doubling over and laughing even harder. "This is like the fifth greatest day of my life."

Sarah lets her get through her uncontrollable laughter before she asks, "What are the other four?"

"Huh?"

"You said this is the fifth best day; what are the other four?"

"Oh," Rachel muses. "Number one is a three-way tie on the days my babies were born," she says. "Can't pick one, because they were all special."

Sarah hums in acknowledgement, because being parents seems like Rachel and Quinn's collective greatest accomplishment.

"Second has to be our wedding day," she says, smiling to herself at the memory. It'd been small, intimate in a way they always imagined it would be. With just thirty people in attendance, they said their vows in front of the most important people in their lives, promising to love each other for all of eternity. "Third was winning my first Tony, hands down."

Sarah laughs. "That was a crazy night," she says, which is a try understatement. The three of them, and Liz, had got _so_ drunk that most of the night is actually a blur.

"And fourth has to be the day Quinn first told me she loved me," Rachel confesses, remembering a time in a sophomore year when everything felt impossible and overwhelming.

"And then today," Sarah says. "The day I come out to you."

Rachel chuckles. "Wow," she says. "I don't - just, wow."

Sarah rolls her eyes. "Keep going and I'm going to wish I'd asked Quinn to come instead."

"I'm sorry," Rachel says, but she's not, at all. "What's her name?"

Sarah groans. "God, Quinn is _never_ going to let me live this down," she says, and she would cover her face with her hands if she wasn't driving. "It's Marley."

Rachel stops breathing. "Marley, as in Marley Rose, who Quinn convinced you to contact, and then - wait, Marley, who was the maid of honour at Puck's wedding? Wait, wait, the Marley Rose who Quinn is convinced had a crush on her when we were in high school?"

Sarah has turned bright red by the time Rachel is finished.

Rachel couldn't even stop her laughter if she tried. It erupts out of her, and there are even tears in her eyes. "I can't - oh wow - I'm too young for this."

"Dude," Sarah says. "Control yourself. You're a mother."

"Quinn is going to die when you tell her," Rachel says, breathing deeply. "Like, keel over and die, for real."

"I know," Sarah says. "But, I don't even care. She's - she's _great_."

Rachel smiles at her, her features softening with understanding. "Worth it, isn't she?"

Sarah's own smile settles into something soft. "I didn't always get it, you know?" she says. "Why Quinn would - " she stops. "I just didn't get it, but I think I do, now."

Rachel's smile grows, and then completely slips off her face as she realises something.

"What?" Sarah asks, suddenly worried. "What?"

Rachel barks out a laugh, and then says, "Do you think Russell would have a heart attack if he ever found out?"

Sarah's eyes widen, and then they're both laughing hysterically as they drive through the streets of Lima. Eventually showing up at Marley's house and piling out of the car with laughter in their eyes and something inexplicably joyful in their hearts.

* * *

The first time Quinn and Rachel return to Ohio, _together,_ is to bury Judy Fabray. Years before her death, she asked to be laid to rest where the rest of her family is buried, in a cemetery just outside Akron.

Which, well, causes quite a lot of tension within the Berry, Fabray and Henderson families. But, it's what Judy wants and, when the time comes, Quinn spends a full day breaking down before she forces herself to see to the arrangements per her mother's wishes.

Judy fought long and hard, struggling every day, and Quinn needs to give her mother a fitting send-off, so the entire family makes plans to travel to another state to give her just that.

It's a weekend in October, when it's starting to get really cold, and Quinn plans everything, Sarah helping when she can between passing along patients, juggling a curious toddler and dealing with the loss of her mother.

Rachel and Quinn have always known it will hit Sarah the hardest, who has literally dedicated her entire life to finding cures not only for Multiple Sclerosis, but also for the diabetes Quinn has managed to keep under control through marriage, two pregnancies - one trickier than the other - motherhood and an enviable career.

But now they are just two daughters who have lost their mother.

Rachel keeps in constant contact with Marley, the two brunettes knowing they're going to keep very close eyes on their respective blondes.

Then there are the children. Judy is leaving behind four grandchildren who all love and adore her, and Rachel can only watch as Olivia withdraws, Rose clings and Liam just doesn't seem to understand. And, it isn't as if she and Quinn haven't done all they can to prepare their own children for this.

No amount of preparation would have been enough.

Instead of a hotel, Quinn rents out a pair of lake houses between Lima and Akron, which doesn't really put them _in_ either place that holds ghosts a plenty for nearly everyone in their extended family. It's almost a retreat, Judy somehow bringing everyone together for one weekend, to celebrate her life while basking in one another's love.

Santana, Brittany and their boys make the trip from San Francisco. Puck, his wife, Theresa, and their twin girls join them. Matthew and his husband, Jack, come in from D.C. Ethan, the serial bachelor, pops in from Columbus. Even Liz manages to take some time off, leaving Ross in New York with their kids. Mr Schuester and his family promise to be there for the ceremony, like many others, and Quinn is overwhelmed by how far-reaching Judy has been, even _through_ her daughters.

Rachel doesn't hover, not really, but she's always close whenever Quinn reaches out for her. Judy was like her own mother, the two of them having to learn to love each other again, just differently. It hits her differently, but she knows she'll have time for her grieving when her wife and children have got through the worst of it.

Sarah is catatonic, mostly, and Rachel can tell Marley is struggling to stay on top of _that_ as well as keep an eye on their terrible two-year-old, Joshua, who last sat still when he still didn't know how to walk. They're all sad and exhausted, but Quinn still gathers little Joshua on her shoulders and leads all the children into the backyard and engineers some kind of system to get an actual fire going in the pit.

Rachel kind of hopes this'll be the last time they ever come to Ohio.

Now that they've managed to make an actual trip _together_ , Rachel gets the feeling this is it for them. Somehow, they've come full circle, and bringing Judy home is the last thing that ties them to this State that almost destroyed them.

They're just thoughts.

The funeral is small, intimate in a way that Judy would have wanted. She passed as Judy Spencer, reclaiming her maiden name after the divorce was finalised, and the only people with the Fabray name in attendance are the two women she gave birth to - and their children, but who's worried about semantics?

The service isn't long. Sarah insists on saying a few words, which really results in Quinn going up to the podium to read her eulogy for her, and Rachel just holds Liam close to her chest, surprised when he doesn't even squirm.

Quinn, for some inexplicable reason, suggests they get ice cream once Judy is safely in the ground and an odd sense of closure begins to settle over their extended family. They're still at the cemetery when she says the words, and there is no home to go to for some kind of Wake, so Matthew coordinates getting the various children and adults into the respective cars to get them to the one ice cream shop that actually stocks vegan ice cream in Akron.

Quinn holds Rachel back a while, stealing little Joshua from Marley's arms, and waving away her sister-in-law when Marley looks conflicted. There's obviously something Quinn wants to do, and Rachel hovers near her, tasking her brothers with watching their rowdy children on the little trip.

Even once there's only one car left behind, Quinn doesn't say anything. She just stands there, Joshua perched on her shoulders, and Rachel knows she'll allow her all the time in the world.

"She asked me, once, what I thought of you," Quinn says, turning her body to face the sight of her mother's grave. It still feels surreal. "After the first night you spent at our house, and I remember thinking _a lot_ of things about you, but I could never actually tell her. She thought you were nice, quiet, and she was relieved to know you were happy to spend your Friday doing homework… like a total nerd."

Rachel rests a hand on Quinn's back, rubbing a slow circle.

"I think she expected you to be a good influence," Quinn says, grinning at her as she taps some kind of rhythm on Joshua's shins. "She couldn't have been more wrong."

Rachel pinches her, and Quinn chuckles. "I make you happy," she huffs.

"You do," Quinn agrees, soft and heavy. "You continually make me very, very happy, and - and I think that my mother held on for as long as she did so she could make sure both her daughters got to experience this _joy_ you have given me since the moment we met."

"Baby."

"She loved you," Quinn tells her. "She loved you so, so much."

Rachel draws Quinn into a hug, making sure to press a hand to Joshua's bottom, lest he goes tumbling right off. He squirms a bit, tugging on Quinn's hair, and both women laugh.

Quinn shakes his leg. "You ready for some ice cream, little man?"

"Ice cream!" he declares, lifting both arms in the air, and Quinn's hold is the only thing that stops him from hitting the floor. Never can be too careful with this terror.

It happens when they're leaving, Quinn passing Joshua to Rachel in the backseat, because they don't have a carseat, and she's going to hold onto him instead that Quinn sees him. She pauses, Joshua hanging in the air, when she recognises the thinning hair and the powerful walk.

Russell Fabray.

Quinn has thought about this moment a lot, but it still catches her off guard that she feels nothing at the sight of him. Not even anger. No hatred. Not even sadness _for_ him.

So, Quinn just stands and watches as he ambles towards Judy's fresh grave, the wind blowing around them. She's vaguely aware of Rachel taking Joshua from her, but her eyes remain on the man who wanted _so much_ from her, and ultimately ended up with nothing.

Quinn hasn't really spoken to Sarah about their father, Sarah losing touch with him when the man filed for divorce after Judy's diagnosis was revealed. Quinn can't say she's surprised by the move, but it was crushing for Sarah.

Losing Judy isn't going to be something Sarah will easily overcome, and Quinn can only wonder what it says about her that she knows she will get through this.

She's had to face the loss of her mother once before. She knows she'll be able to do it again.

Quinn watches him for a beat longer, absently wondering if this is something she'll mention to Sarah. Would it anger her? Would it offer some kind of closure to know the man still came to bid his ex-wife farewell? Would it even matter?

Just as she closes Rachel's door and starts to turn away, Russell lifts his head, and their eyes meet. Hazel eyes, so similar. There are mere metres between them, but the gulf is enormous.

Joshua's hands slam on the window, and Quinn looks at him, smiling and waving.

When she looks at Russell again, his back is turned, and Quinn is relieved. He's not here for her, anyway. He's here for Judy, and maybe that's all that should matter.

It's what she tells herself, at least, as she climbs into the car and feels Rachel's worried gaze on her. She's been so strong and so present through all of this, and Quinn wants nothing more than to show her how much she's appreciated. Maybe they'll go on a trip together, with or without the kids, depending on how the rest of the school year goes.

"Ice cream, ice cream, ice cream," Joshua sings, and Quinn's smile is small but present as she drives into Akron with the help of her Navigation. When they arrive, the parking lot is lined with familiar cars, and she feels a sense of belonging as she pulls into a spot.

These are her people.

This is exactly where she's supposed to be.

Quinn gets out first and retrieves Joshua before holding out a hand for Rachel. She's a little dramatic with her actions, and Joshua giggles in her arms, clapping his hands when Quinn does a dramatic bow.

Rachel just laughs, her fingers closing around Quinn's as she closes the door behind her. There's a moment of sheer, unguarded, happiness… that is shattered with one word

"Rachel."

Both Quinn and Rachel freeze, right there in the parking lot, and Joshua claps just once more before he senses something is very, very wrong.

Rachel turns first, her heart going still in her chest at the first sight of her mother in more than two decades. Shelby looks a lot older, even a bit frail, as she stands there, stiff and unreadable, with Pete hovering just behind her.

Quinn breathes in before she looks over at the woman, and she's, once again, surprised by how little she feels. There isn't even anger, and it takes her far too long to realise it's because the trade-off of having Rachel in her life has produced such a happiness that has overwhelmed every other feeling.

"Shelby," Rachel says, her tone even and steady.

Shelby looks at her, at Quinn, and then at Joshua. "Is - is that - "

"No," Rachel says, and her voice carries an edge to it that usually comes out only during therapy. "You don't get to ask about my life. Not now, and not ever. You lost that right a long time ago."

Quinn presses a hand to Rachel's back in comfort, and Joshua leans into Quinn's chest, probably alarmed by the way the temperature seems to have risen in the air around them. Quinn kisses the side of his head to soothe him, and then startles when she feels a hand on her own back, Sarah appearing at her side.

Quinn passes Joshua to her, and then catches sight of Matthew, Jack, Ethan and Marley all gathering behind them. One look into the ice cream parlour reveals that everyone else is on his or her feet, and Quinn spies Liam standing on the seats of the booth to be able to see. The critter.

"This is my family," Rachel tells Shelby. She reaches blindly behind her, and Quinn slides her hand into hers, the way Rachel always knew she would. " _This_ is my family," she repeats, and then glances back at Matthew, who has his arm linked with Jack's, and Ethan, who no longer wears a conflicted look when faced with some kind of 'choice' between his siblings and his parents.

Shelby blinks once, twice, and then asks, "Are you happy?"

Rachel barely hesitates when she says, "The happiest." She clenches her jaw, fingers squeezing Quinn's. "Are _you_?"

And, well, the fact Shelby walks away without ever responding to the question is extremely telling. It's answer enough, and Rachel wonders if she should be feeling something more about meeting her mother again, when she's just bid farewell to the only mother who's mattered to her.

Quinn clears her throat and says, "Okay, good people, I do believe some of your ice creams are probably melting."

Sarah rolls her eyes, but shoots a small smile at Rachel before taking Joshua inside the store, Marley following.

Matthew lingers a while.

"Are you okay?" Rachel asks him.

He waits a beat, and then nods. "I'm okay," he verbally confirms.

Jack kisses his cheek and says, "She has a terrible moisturising regimen," and the five of them share a laugh.

Rachel looks at Ethan. "And you, E?"

Ethan frowns slightly, and then says, "I used to wonder who the villain was in the story. At first, I thought it was you." He winces when Rachel just stands and watches him, barely reacting herself. "Then I thought it was Matt." He clenches his jaw. "But then I thought it had to be _me_."

Rachel reaches out to run a soft hand through his hair. They may be so much older now, but he's still her baby brother.

"But, it's her, isn't it?" he finishes, deflating.

Rachel kisses his cheek. "She doesn't have to be the villain of _your_ story, E," she tells him. "That's not something I ever wanted for you."

Ethan shrugs. "I'm okay," he says. "I've got all you crazy mother fuckers."

Rachel swats his arm at the same time Quinn laughs. "Go eat your damn ice cream," she tells him.

"Yes, Ma'am," he sasses, but does disappear into the store with Matthew and Jack in tow, leaving Rachel and Quinn standing there, the two of them forced to acknowledge just what's happened.

"All we need is to bump into my father, and we'll have a full set," Rachel says, rather darkly, and Quinn draws her into a comforting hug. "Sorry," she says. "God, that was an awful thing to say."

Quinn just kisses the top of her head.

"I'm okay," Rachel assures her, but she makes no move to remove herself from the embrace. "I promise I'm okay."

"Baby, you don't have to try to convince me," Quinn murmurs.

Rachel just stands and soaks in all Quinn has to offer for another few minutes, before she deems herself ready to face their family again. She scrubs at her face with her hands and wipes her eyes of tears she hasn't shed.

Quinn asks, "Are you okay?" once again.

Rachel nods, her haze lifting to meet Quinn's, steady and sure and oh-so-loving.

"I love you, you know?" Quinn says.

"I know," Rachel returns with a soft smile, a hand reaching up to cup Quinn's cheek.

"I have always loved you," Quinn confesses what Rachel has always, _always_ known. It's _their_ story, Shelby as a villain or not.

"I know," Rachel says again.

"It has always been permanent," Quinn whispers. "Our love."

Rachel latches onto that, her smile growing ever so slightly. "You and I, Quinn Berry-Fabray," she murmurs, pulling Quinn into a gentle kiss. " _We_ have _never_ been a temporary love."

* * *

_Fin_


End file.
